Lola's List
by amandajbruce
Summary: In which Lilly takes on a project for her great aunt Lola, not knowing how much work it's really going to be.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I know I've only got ten letters left in the alphabet, but I needed to take a break from Lilly, Alphabetically. That and I don't have a Q yet. I decided to start posting a chapter story I've been working on. What? Am I really writing a multiple chapter story? Why yes, yes I am. It's crazy, I know. But this idea jumped into my head, and it wouldn't go away, so I started outlining. And then I started writing. It's not done yet either, and I don't usually post things before I finish them entirely, but hey, why not? Let's try something new. **

***

Not quite spring yet, but the temperatures had been steadily climbing, and Lilly Truscott was ready for her Spring Break to get here, preferably as quickly as possible. She was tired of tests and papers, tired of having to stay up late to complete assignments, and most of all, tired of scheduling her life around her school day. Too bad it was still a week away. Right now, she was laying on her back, letting the sun beat down on her, hoping her skin would absorb just enough of the rays to leave her golden, not crispy. Her sunglasses were perched on the top of her head, and she was paying close attention to her boyfriend as he extolled the virtues of an early morning workout with a surfboard as he stood over her, his sneakers covered in sand. Normally, Lilly was right there with him, as long as it didn't involve getting up when the tide changed at four in the morning. She almost wished for the days when she wasn't allowed to go surfing before the sun came up.

"I would love to go surfing, Oliver, really, I would, but I have plans for tomorrow morning." She brushed a few strands of blond hair out of her eyes, pulling her sunglasses back down and rolling onto her stomach.

"Lilly, what could you possibly be doing at the crack of dawn on a Saturday morning?" Miley asked from her spot on the blanket next to her as she flipped a page in a magazine. The glossy photos reflected the sunlight in sharp bursts and she pulled her own shades down as well. The two of them had been lounging on the beach, trying to get a tan practically since the last bell rang at school, and when his shift at The Shack ended, Oliver had decided to come jogging up to them.

"I'm going to visit my dad's aunt tomorrow, and visiting hours start at eight." Lilly gazed out at the water, watching as a few of the guys she knew bobbed in the waves.

The two of them had chosen this spot particularly because this part of the beach was usually pretty quiet. The water here wasn't all that great for serious surfing, but a lot of the guys at school liked to come to this area of the beach to get in a decent workout, kind of like preparing to face the real currents. Lilly now had a feeling Miley might have agreed with Lilly's pick for a quiet spot on the beach only because there were a few choice specimens out in the water who where braving the cooler temperatures of the surf in only board shorts.

And the water was definitely cold. Lilly had stuck a foot in earlier and discovered that even though the sun was baking down on them, the ocean hadn't quite caught up to the changing temperatures yet. For this reason, she had decided to commit to getting a tan rather than balancing on a rented board out there with any of the guys.

"Visiting hours?" Oliver asked, toeing the edge of the blanket in front of her with his sneaker, stepping into range and blocking out her sun. He had been doing that for the last few minutes. He would edge closer to the blanket, then back up again, moving the sand around on the material, and it was driving Lilly crazy. He was like a puppy trying to get attention.

She liked puppies. A lot.

She was trying to hold out from devoting her attention entirely to him for Miley's sake though.

Poking him in the ankle, just above the line for his sock, she told him, "yeah, she's in an assisted living center about an hour away, so I've got to leave early if I want to get there on time." At the blank look she knew she was getting from Miley, even though she couldn't see her eyes behind the sunglasses, Lilly added, "my dad's at one of those independent financial whatever seminars this weekend, trying to drum up more business since he's working on his own now, and he usually goes to see her every Saturday morning, right when visiting hours start. They have breakfast, play cards, talk for a while, and he gets home by lunchtime. He's the only family she has living near by. I said I'd go since he can't."

"Aw, that's really sweet of your dad to do." Miley grinned and thumbed through another few pages. Not having any family in California made you appreciate things like that. There were plenty of times she wished her family lived just down the street, no matter how crazy they got.

"Yeah, well, you know he's a huge softie." She shrugged and held out a hand to get Miley to stop turning the pages. She had spotted the horoscopes, and wanted to see what hers said.

"Since I doubt I can get Miley to go surfing with me," Oliver started to say, kicking a little bit of sand on the blanket, which Lilly brushed off for the millionth time.

"No way am I getting up before ten if I don't have a Hannah thing," Miley agreed, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

"You want some company?" he finished.

"To visit aunt Lola?" Lilly asked, surprised.

"Her name is Lola?" Miley giggled. "Her last name isn't Luftnagle, is it?" she added, referencing Lilly's alter ego for her appearances at Hannah Montana events.

"No, her last name is Truscott. I made up the Luftnagle part." Lilly rolled her eyes, propping her sunglasses back up on the top of her head, using them to hold her hair out of the way again. "You really want to go with me?" She poked Oliver in the leg again as he shifted his weight, stirring up more sand.

"Yeah, why not? It'll be fun." He smiled down at her, the light from the sun lowering in the sky behind him framing his dark hair in a bright glow.

"Alright... but you're driving then." She smiled back at him before returning to examining her horoscope. _Answers to a great mystery are all around you, _it read. She huffed, climbing to her feet, and wiped the sand from her arms. "The sun's gonna go down soon, Miles. I think I'm gonna head home, okay?" She grabbed her shorts from one corner of the blanket and pulled them on over her bathing suit bottoms.

"Yeah, yeah," Miley waved her off. "You're only leaving cause Oliver's off work now, and you know he gets bored tanning."

Laughing, Lilly didn't respond to that, instead saying, "I'll call you later," as she picked up her tank top and her sandals.

"Bye!" Miley bent her knees, her feet kicking in the air behind her, and skimmed an article about what lip gloss flavors said about your personality. She had been anticipating Lilly being ready to leave ever since Oliver jogged over to them a few minutes ago in his bright blue Rico's shirt and started talking about weekend plans. They were so predictable. She, on the other hand, was staying until there was no light left. That way she could still appear to be reading while she scoped out the guys on the water.

"Bye," Oliver called, shaking his head as he watched Miley none to subtly lower her shades to her nose and peer over the top of them as a surfer coasted onto shore.

"So," Lilly said while they walked down the beach, "there are probably a few things I should tell you about Aunt Lola." Making sure she had her shoes and her tank top held in the hand not on the side of her closest to Oliver, she told him, "She's kind of..." Her free hand brushed against Oliver's and she lost her train of thought.

"What? Crazy?" He caught her hand in his, wrapping his fingers around hers, and pulled her close.

"No! She's... eccentric." She tried to smack him with her sandals, but he pushed them away. "She's just always been the wild one on my dad's sad of the family. She doesn't really like to play by the rules, and my dad says she tries to get him to sneak her out of the center every time he visits."

"Isn't that a bad sign? Like, she hates it there or something?"

"Actually, she really likes it there. She stays there instead of moving in with family cause she has a lot of fun. It's kind of a game. She likes to see how far out the door she can get before the nurses catch her."

"Awesome. I bet we could sneak her out to the beach or something." Oliver chuckled to himself. He always got along with his older relatives. His grandmother said he made her feel young. He had no doubt Aunt Lola would like having him around too. Well, he hoped she would. Otherwise, tomorrow would be a little awkward.

"You think so?" Lilly asked him with a wide grin. "She'd get a kick out of that."

"Why not? We won't get in trouble or anything, right?" He narrowed his eyes and looked over at her.

"I don't think so. I mean, my dad hasn't gotten in any trouble. But he doesn't really try all that hard to actually get her out of the center." She pulled on his hand, turning him away from the ocean and toward one of the wooden sets of stairs that would take them back up to a sidewalk. "I'm sure it'll be fine... as long as she's, you know, there."

"Why wouldn't she be there?" His grip tightened on her hand, concerned.

"Well, I don't mean, like, she's not at the center. It's just... she has Alzheimer's... at least, I think that's what she has, so she gets confused sometimes." Lilly paused, tossing her sandals down on the bottom of the wooden steps to slip them on. "She's about eighty or something. But on her good days, she's so much fun."

As Lilly climbed the steps, Oliver had to let go of her hand and move behind her, letting the people coming down to the beach pass them. He moved to place his hand on the small of her back as they walked, like he usually did when he was standing behind her, but she still hadn't put her tank top back on, so his hand just hovered there, millimeters above her skin, not sure if he should let his hand rest there or not. It wasn't that he had never touched her back without clothing on it or anything, it just wasn't something he had done often. And they were in the middle of the beach, and well, maybe it wasn't that great of an idea to touch her bare skin in public when she was supposed to be on her way home. He swallowed when they reached the top of the platform, and didn't have to make a decision because Lilly was instantly back at his side, her fingers lacing through his this time, pulling him along the platform and to the sidewalk.

"You didn't drive to work, did you?" she asked, bringing his thoughts back to the conversation and away from her skin.

"Uh, no, so unless you want to go back and get Miley to give you a ride home, we're walking."

"Good. Walking takes longer."

She let herself smile even though she wasn't looking at him and moved herself closer to his side, their hands almost trapped between them, bumping against her hip or his while they walked.

It was funny. Before they started dating, she never thought Oliver would really be good at this. The walking down the street and the hand holding. She always thought it looked awkward when she saw him with any of his other girlfriends (not that there had been that many), like he was a little bit more uncomfortable with it than he let on, like he didn't actually want his fingers being squashed between someone else's. But she never got that from him now. He was usually the one who would reach out and grab her hand when they were walking, or the one to put his arm around her shoulders in the hallway at school. And she always leaned into him gratefully. There was nothing awkward or uncomfortable about it. Sure, the first few times he had tried to hold her hand, his palm was all sweaty and he seemed to not know how tightly to hold on to her, like he was worried that she wouldn't want him to, but by only their second official date, it was the most natural thing in the world. She wasn't entirely sure if she could remember how to walk next to him without being able to have a physical reminder that he was there. She needed it.

"Tell me more about Aunt Lola," Oliver goaded after they had been walking in companionable silence for a few minutes.

"What do you want to know?" She laughed at his enthusiasm for tomorrow's plans.

"Is she small enough to fit in the trunk of my dad's car?"

"Oliver!"

"I was thinking she could hide in there when we sneak her out to the beach!" he protested before she could try to smack him.

"We are not putting an eighty-year-old woman in the trunk of the car!" she burst out, trying not to laugh. "Oh, no, it's not what you think," she called to a woman who was looking at them in alarm.

Oliver shook his head and asked another question. "Okay, other than sneaking out, what kinds of rules does she like to break?"

"She likes to play poker with some of the other residents."

"That's against the rules?"

Lilly stepped around an oil spot in one of the parking lots near the beach and responded, "well, it's against the rules if you play for money. You can play for snacks and stuff like that. The staff just doesn't like them to use money because the residents have cash in their accounts to use at the stores and things they have on site. They don't want anybody to run out and have to tell their families, you know?"

Oliver cocked an eyebrow and said something he knew Lilly wasn't going to like very much. "It kind of sounds like prison."

"It's not like prison... it's just a precaution." She turned to look at him, her brow furrowed, stopping on the edge of the sidewalk where they where going to have to cross the street.

Oliver's free hand twitched, wanting to smooth out the wrinkles he saw form below her hairline, and he smiled. "I just meant the way they set up the accounts for the residents."

"Oh." Her forehead relaxed. "She's pretty much a card shark though. She always beats me when I visit."

"She beats you? That's impressive."

"I know," Lilly teased, "it's hard to believe." She moved to cross the street, but Oliver pulled her back to the corner.

"You should probably put your tank top back on before we get to close to your house," he told her.

"Why are you always trying to cover me up?" she joked, letting go of his hand.

"I don't want your mom thinking I've been undressing you while we're walking down the street. I've got to stay on her good side." He grabbed one of the belt loops on her shorts as he spoke, pulling her close to him again and kissing her softly. "If I don't stay on her good side, she won't let me hang out at your house anymore."

"Point taken," she mumbled and yanked her shirt over her head, almost losing the sunglasses she had forgotten were resting there.

They spent the rest of the walk home discussing Lola and everything Lilly thought Oliver might need to know about her for tomorrow.

Favorite breakfast? French toast.

Poker strategy? She always bluffed, and always went for the straight.

Cats or dogs? She liked cats because they took care of themselves, but she liked playing fetch with dogs, which didn't really matter because she actually had a tank full of fish that she named after her favorite soap opera characters.

Pie or cake? Cake, unless the pie had chocolate in it. Aunt Lola loved chocolate.

Was she ever a Las Vegas show girl? Not that Lilly knew of, but with Lola, it was definitely possible. She had lived almost everywhere.

And, most importantly, would she like him?

"You know, I think she will like you," Lilly told him as they reached their block, the houses stretching out before them with their perfectly manicured laws.

The home owner's association had been acting pretty strict lately, wanting everyone to keep their lawns and their paint in tip-top shape. It probably had something to do with the house for sale at the end of the block. Mr. MacGregor had moved after his wife left him, and the MacGregor house had always been meticulously maintained. Ironic that the prettiest house on the block had been the most unhappy.

Lilly watched the sprinklers kick on at the Lawson house across the street, water spraying in a picture perfect arc across picture perfect flower beds, and she added, "I think my dad talked about you and me a couple of times, but I don't know how much she'll remember."

Lilly started to slow her walk as they approached the driveway of the Oken house, the house with the browning lawn and leaves still stuffed into its gutters because no one seemed to have the time to clean them, but Oliver didn't stop to go inside, instead continuing to her house, his thumb stroking the skin on the back of her hand.

"Hey, maybe I'll bring a bag of M&Ms and let her clean me out in poker, make sure she really likes me." He nudged her with his elbow as they climbed the steps to her front door.

"You can't let her win. She'll know. She'll like you better if you make her work for it."

"Sounds like someone else I know."

Lilly smiled up at him through her eyelashes and leaned in close, but the door opened before she got as close as she wanted.

"Oh, good, you're home," Heather Truscott said, like she hadn't known that her daughter and her daughter's boyfriend were on the front porch. She nonchalantly walked over to the mailbox, opened it, and fished out the few envelopes and bits of junk mail that were in it, even though the mail was usually dropped off a few hours earlier.

"Hi, mom," Lilly said flatly, while Oliver gave a bit of an overenthusiastic "Hey, Ms. T." He nervously tried to move aside, but Lilly kept her hand in his, making sure he didn't go anywhere.

Heather glanced briefly over at their joined hands before saying, "I'm gonna head out in a little while."

"Date?" Lilly asked sharply.

"Yes." Heather's reply was clipped.

Oliver knew this would probably be a good time for him to go seeing as how Lilly had been growing increasingly frustrated with her mother's dating habits, so even though Heather always made him nervous, he kissed Lilly softly, just on the corner of her mouth and said, "I'll see you in the morning. Come over as early as you want, okay? I'll probably be up. I'm still on the radio station's schedule. I had to be there at five last week for my last day."

Lilly nodded her head, giving him a small smile and his hand a quick squeeze. "Okay."

Oliver untangled his fingers from hers and slipped away, down the steps and across the lawn, nodding his head at Lilly's mom on the way.

"Well, have fun," Lilly snapped at her mother, stepping through the front door and preparing to run up the stairs.

Heather sighed, coming in behind her, and called, "there's left over lasagna in the fridge for dinner. All you have to do is heat it up." Lilly didn't answer her, just kept on going. Heather tried again. "Are you still planning on going to see your father's aunt tomorrow?"

"Yes," she called down to her, still not turning around.

"I don't know why you _want _to go see her. That woman's crazy."

"She's not crazy, mom. She's just different." Lilly stopped at the top of the steps, waiting to hear what her mom would say this time.

"Well, be careful. You don't know how she'll act if she gets in one of her moods."

Lilly just scoffed at the idea and continued on to her room.

By midnight, Lilly was restless, tossing and turning in her bed. She had eaten some of the leftover lasagna, beat her little brother at a few boardgames, watched some television, called and chatted with Miley, took a shower, and gone to bed. The problem was she couldn't fall asleep if she didn't hear her mother come in. Even though she knew that Heather typically met "the girls" for drinks after dates, and she always came home by the time the bars closed, never drunk, Lilly still worried. It was just like not being able to sleep if there were people she didn't know very well visiting. It was an unknown variable, one she couldn't control for.

Not that Lilly was a control freak. There were just certain aspects of her life that she liked to keep orderly. So much of it was in chaos on a regular basis.

She squinted at the clock on her nightstand, the numbers still blurring in front of her. Wishing she had kept her contacts in, even though she knew that dried out her eyes, Lilly reached out almost blindly for the spare pair of glasses she kept next to her clock. As her fingers closed around the plastic frames, she sighed, then brought them up to her face. She slid them on and reached for her phone, her vision clear.

_Are you awake?_

She pushed the buttons on the keypad, then sent the message off to her most frequently texted phone number, one of her thumbs tapping lightly on the screen while she waited for a reply.

_Why are you still up _was the message that came through to her not even a minute later.

_Can't sleep._

She threw off her blankets and padded over to her window where the curtain was still open, taking a seat on the sill. She listened for a second, but she still didn't hear any car pulling into the driveway or any door closing downstairs; she saw no glare of headlights coming up the street.

_Mom not home yet? _

Lilly half chuckled to herself when she saw the words on the screen and she snapped her eyes to the window directly across the lawn from hers. His blinds weren't shut either.

_Not yet._

A few seconds later her phone was buzzing, not with a message, but an incoming call. Hitting the button, the phone was at her ear in an instant.

"Lils, I thought you wanted to leave early in the morning."

"I do..."

"Then we have to go to sleep." Oliver appeared in the window across the lawn and Lilly bit down on her lip to hide her smile, not saying anything. "Lils, seriously. I know you can't fall asleep until your mom gets home, but you have to... or you'll be sleeping in the car in the morning and I won't have anyone to talk to." She still didn't say anything, and he sighed, taking a seat on his own window sill. "How's your night going?" he asked grudgingly.

Lilly giggled and said, "much better now." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and told him about leftover lasagna, playing games with her brother, and her mom being out passed curfew. Tracing the pattern of bats on her pajama bottoms while she spoke, her anxiety slowly loosened its grip on her. The shorts were supposed to be for Halloween, but whenever she saw the outlines of the little black bats all over the fabric, she thought of movie marathons with Oliver featuring his favorite superhero instead, so they were being worn much more often.

"Your mom doesn't have a curfew," he mumbled before he yawned, getting her to pay attention to the conversation again.

"She should," she shot back before yawning herself. It was true what people said about yawning. It really was contagious.

"How was the lasagna?" Oliver questioned.

Typical. He always wanted to know about food. "Not bad. The pasta was a little too chewy."

"Did your mom make it or did she order out?"

Lilly rolled her eyes. "She made it. I think she was trying to make up for missing dinner with my brother and me the night before."

He made a noise of agreement, then whispered, "hang on a second." She watched him as he turned his head slowly toward where she knew the location of his bedroom door was, straining his ear as though listening to something beyond it.

"Is someone up?" Lilly whispered into her own phone, even though she knew she didn't need to whisper. Her brother was a heavy sleeper, and her mom still wasn't home, so she had nothing to worry about.

Oliver nodded his head, knowing she could see him, or at least, the outline of him, but didn't say a word. They sat in silence for a few minutes and Lilly closed her eyes, listening for the sound of Oliver's breathing on the other end of the line.

After what felt like an endless silence, and Lilly had been able to match her own breathing to Oliver's, he said, "okay, I can talk again," in a low voice. He proceeded to giver her a detailed description of the new recipe his mom had tried out for some sort of vegetarian rice dish that his brother had hated before the conversation began to lag.

"So, uh, thanks for going with me to see Lola." Lilly decided it was better to fill the silence, though really, sitting there listening to Oliver breathe would have been fine with her too. Keeping him on the phone though, that would probably be dependent on them actually saying words to one another.

"Yeah, well, you know, it's not like I had any other plans or anything."

Lilly rolled her eyes as the faint light from a pair of headlights reached the ground between their houses. Someone was driving down their street. She knew Oliver could see it too; his head had swiveled to peer down at the street that he couldn't really see from his window.

"You think that's my mom?" she whispered as the line of light disappeared and an engine cut.

"Probably. Unless one of the neighbors is getting a late night visit." He shrugged comically, and Lilly was sure that if she could see him that well, his eyebrows would be waggling suggestively.

She listened for keys in the doorway, but all she heard so far was a car door closing. "Well, I guess that means I should go..." she trailed off, not hanging up the phone or walking away from the window.

"Hey, Lils?"

"Hey, Oliver?" she returned.

He didn't say anything, so she waited, her ears picking up the faint sound of a key turning in the lock downstairs. Only in the middle of the night could you hear something like that from so far away. There was way too much outside noise during the day.

He smiled at her before saying, very slowly, "I love... your glasses. You should wear them more often."

Lilly answered him with a slight chuckle and an, "I think not." She turned her head as the front door opened and her mom tried to come in quietly. "But I love... what you've done with your hair. It sticking up all over the place. Very cute. You shouldn't even worry about styling it tomorrow."

"I'll see you in the morning."

"Night."

When Heather pushed open her daughter's door softly a few minutes later, Lilly was curled up underneath her blankets, seemingly sound asleep.

***


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This chapter is a little longer than the last one, but I'm going to try to keep the length of the chapters relatively consistent after this, don't worry. You get to meet Aunt Lola and find out just what it is Lilly's going to be doing for her in the future. Enjoy.**

***

"Why are you stopping? We've only been driving for half an hour!" Lilly was looking out the window of the passenger seat of the car, admiring the miles and miles of highway, but now, the car pulled into a gas station, which interfered with the admiration.

"Lils, I'm tired, I need some coffee or something." Oliver turned the wheel, the car's tires crunching across some loose gravel, and pulled up next to one of the gas pumps. "And the gas gauge is broken, so I don't even know how much gas we have."

"The gas gauge is broken?" she echoed with a laugh. "And we got on the highway without knowing how much gas there was?"

Oliver cut his eyes to her without saying anything and put the car in park. He was glaring. The fact that he hadn't been able to save up enough money for a car yet, and was using his dad's old one was a sore spot with him. Compounding that with his being tired, and he wasn't really in the mood.

Lilly watched as he turned off the engine and she added, "I didn't think you even liked coffee" in a more neutral voice, wiping the smirk off her face.

"I don't. Not really. But, I think you and I could both use some caffeine." He climbed out of the car, pulling his debit card from his wallet and sliding it into the automated system on the gas pump.

Following him out of the car, and around to the driver's side, avoiding what looked like a spot of oil from a previous traveler, Lilly said, "alright, I'll go get you some caffeine. I'll be right back."

She half skipped into the station, wandering aimlessly down the aisle with all of the snack sized candies, even though she knew that it was way too early in the morning to indulge in any junk food. At the end of the aisle, just before she made her way to the soda fountain and the coffee pot, there were the full size bags of M&Ms, and she remembered Oliver's joke about letting Lola win at poker. Before she could change her mind, she grabbed one of the bags of the milk chocolate variety, as well as a small bag of mini muffins, deciding Oliver would probably be starving by the time they got to the center, and food would likely make him forget that she had just made fun of their current mode of transportation.

Heading to the soda fountain, she bypassed the coffee pots completely and stood there for about five minutes staring at the myriad of possible caffeinated and carbonated selections. She wasn't getting him coffee. He wouldn't drink it and he would spend a lot of the drive complaining about how bitter it was. No amount of sugar would fix the bitter, and besides, he probably shouldn't be drinking down that much sugar anyway. Setting her candy and pastries on the edge of the counter top, Lilly grabbed two of the large plastic cups from the tubing on the side of the dispenser, cataloging her options carefully. She soon settled for putting back the cups, grabbing one of the extra large ones instead. She slid the cup under the crushed, not cubed, ice dispenser, letting the ice tumble into her cup, listening to the bits of frozen water as they crunched their way through the opening and into the plastic, until it was a little less than halfway full, before switching the cup to the spot below the diet soda dispenser. Lilly propped a straw, still in its wrapper, above one ear before she transferred the cup to the cherry soda.

Perfect.

Oliver wasn't so sure. When he took the straw from her right before she got into the car and slid it through the lid to take a sip, he made a face. "Diet?"

"You like diet."

"I just wasn't expecting it."

"Less sugar. It's good for you." He stared at her as though she had just suggested that he drink arsenic. "I brought you mini muffins though." She held up the bag with a smile, and Oliver grinned back at her.

"Chocolate chip muffins. Breakfast of champions." And just like that, she was forgiven. He replaced the gas cap on the tank, got his debit card back, and dropped into his seat. "But won't Lola be disappointed if we're not hungry when have breakfast with her?"

"You honestly telling me you won't be hungry again in an hour?"

"Good point." He grabbed a pastry from the bag before starting the car, ignoring Lilly's eye roll as he shoved it in his mouth. He had no doubt he would be seeing plenty of rolling eyes throughout the morning. He had that effect on Lilly. In fact, he liked to think that her eye rolling was her way of distracting herself from thinking about how cute he was. Otherwise, he would just be irresistible, and well, she had to be in control of herself most of the time.

Lilly took the soda from his hand, pulling on the straw before pushing it back down, swirling the ice through the liquid, listening to it run against the sides of the cup. "I also bought a bag of M&Ms," she told him off hand before taking a sip of her diet-cherry concoction.

"I see that. What happened to me not letting Aunt Lola win?" He started the car, easing out of the gas station's parking lot, back onto the road.

"Just because I bought the bag of M&Ms doesn't mean you should let her win." She shifted in the seat, letting her back rest against the door, her feet stretching across the seats and into Oliver's lap. "You should still play for real... if we get to play poker. If not, we've got a bag of chocolate for the ride home."

"Chocolate for the ride, always excellent," Oliver agreed, resting one of his hands on her legs, keeping the other on the steering wheel.

"Exactly."

Oliver's phone emitted a series of notes that sounded familiar, but Lilly couldn't place them. She eyed the blinking lights coming from one of the cup holders curiously. Forced to remove his hand from her ankle, he reached out and grabbed the phone.

"Hello?"

Even though using cell phones while driving was supposed to be illegal, Oliver never thought to put the phone on speaker or use any kind of hands free device.

"Who is it?" Lilly whispered, poking his abdomen with a toe.

"Sorry, man," he said, not answering her question, "my last shift at the radio station was last week." He paused and gave a slight eye roll. "Yes, Todd, I can still listen to your question, just like you called the radio station."

Lilly giggled and poked Oliver again. "Put him on speaker so I can hear."

They had known Todd since elementary school, and while Lilly wouldn't consider him one of her very best friends, she always knew that she could count on Todd for a good time. He was especially reliable in the crazy ideas department. From the second time Oliver was chatting live on the radio, Todd started calling in. Todd's call-in questions were always entertaining. He would call Oliver several times during a broadcast with some of the most ridiculous questions ever. Like why his dog was ignoring him. And Oliver always did his best to give an answer that would satisfy Todd and the people listening. Sometimes, they were just as crazy as the questions themselves.

Oliver pushed a button on the phone and handed it over to Lilly. She grabbed it and held it between them so they could both listen.

"So, dude, hypothetically, if someone, like, accidentally locked a ten-year-old boy in a restaurant freezer, how would they go about getting him out?"

Lilly's eyes widened as Oliver spoke. "Todd, are you at your mom's restaurant?"

"Yeah..."

"Did you lock your little brother in the freezer?"

"Maybe..."

"Todd!" Lilly yelped. "Go get the keys from your mom!"

"Oh, hey Lilly! How's it goin' dudette?"

"Todd!" Oliver barked. "Go get your mom or the manager or something to get your brother!" He shook his head in exasperation in the driver's seat.

"Right. Right. I guess I should probably go, dudes. This could take a while to explain to my mom."

"Wow," Lilly remarked as the phones were disconnected. "Just when I think Todd's life can't get any weirder, he locks his brother in a giant freezer."

"It could've been worse," Oliver told her. "He could've gotten stuck in the oven."

An hour later they were playing an informative game of "would you rather" and Lilly was laughing, almost near hysterics.

"You're telling me you'd rather drink a bottle of sour milk than shave your head?" she asked him. "Oliver, that's taking obsession to a whole new level."

"I'm not obsessed," he protested. "You know who's obsessed with their hair? Mr. Stewart. Have you seen all the crap he has for his hair? I don't own even half that!"

"Okay, true," she agreed, still giggling. "But really, sour milk? That's just gross!"

"Would you still date me if I shaved my head?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course I would!"

He took his eyes off the road for a second to give her a look of disbelief. "You would not."

"Yes I would... it would grow back out."

"What about if I drank the sour milk?"

She wrinkled her nose in disgust, but said, "of course I would. I just wouldn't kiss you until you'd had your stomach pumped and brushed your teeth about a million times or something."

"Alright, we're at the end of your last set of directions. Right or left?" He glanced back and forth out the windshield.

"Right." Lilly pointed in the direction she indicated, a few blocks ahead of them. "The center's just up there." She straightened up in her seat, no longer letting her legs hang over his and put her shoes that had been sitting in the floor of the car back onto her feet. Sometimes she wished she never had to wear shoes. As cute as a lot of them were, they could be a nuisance.

Oliver had expected something that looked like a hospital, all sterile and business-like, or maybe a prison, bars on the windows and guards at the doors, but he had in no way anticipated the complex of buildings behind the wrought iron gate that looked more like a bunch of condos. Well, there was a guard at the gate, but all Oliver had to do was sign his and Lilly's name on a clipboard before they drove into the lot, and the guard would sign them back out when they left. It was really just like a lot of gated communities in the ritzy areas of Malibu. The trees and the shrubs were pruned so they looked like perfectly spherical green cotton balls. The lawn was sprawling. There was a nice, clear, pool off from the main building. Something that looked like a YMCA was next to it, complete with a tennis court and a shuffle board area in the front.

"Swanky." He nodded his head in approval. "I feel like we're at a resort or something."

"I told you it was nice." Lilly smiled, pulled her hairbrush out of the oversized purse she had brought with her, and hurriedly ran it through her hair, trying to make it appear as though she hadn't been lounging against a door, letting her hair get all frizzy, during a long car ride. "Park over there," she instructed, nodding her head toward the building to the left of the pool. She hopped out of the car as soon as Oliver applied the break, checking her watch as she went.

Oliver grabbed the bag of M&Ms and hurried after her, handing it to her just as she knocked on a bright orange door that had a white lace curtain hanging in its tiny window. Lilly tucked the bag of candy into her purse, along with the assortment of other items she had brought. She had enough stuff rattling around in there that she felt like she was taking a small child out to the park or something. She rocked back on her heels as she heard the shuffle of slippers approaching the door, and Oliver tilted his head slightly to the side, trying to peer through the small pane of glass in the door.

When the door opened, a woman who was a few inches shorter than Lilly, her hair just as long, though the color now a bright white, and her eyes a twinkling blue, stood there with a wide grin on her face. "Well, don't just stand there, come on in!" She waved them inside, the corners of her eyes crinkling in delight. Wearing a dark green dress that had polka dots the size of dimes sprinkled across it and a string of pearls around her neck, her long hair pinned in place in gentle curls, she looked like she belonged to another era.

If Oliver didn't know better, he would have thought they were going to be taking her out to a sock hop in 1952 or something. That illusion was shattered though as soon as he stepped over the threshold of her little apartment and saw that she was wearing bright pink bedroom slippers that had large yellow flowers on the front of them. She also pulled a deep purple beret from her coat rack and placed it on her head before she shut the door (her nails were painted the same shade of purple as well), and he kind of understood where Lilly pulled some of her "Lola" outfit ideas from now.

"You must be Olly," Lola said, ushering them into her sitting room. She tapped lightly on the glass of the fishtank sitting on a side table and sank into an overstuffed armchair, propping her feet on her coffee table with a thud.

"That's me," he agreed, deciding not to correct her on his name. Lilly was the only one he ever let call him that, but if this woman wanted to call him Olly, she could call him Olly. He sat down on the edge of a plastic covered sofa, Lilly right beside him.

"You're just in time, you know, breakfast starts in a few minutes. We'll have to walk over to the main building soon if we want to get the good seats." She rearranged the beret on her head before asking, "but tell me, what do you think of my place, Olly?"

Oliver smiled and glanced around the room. There was a large cork board on one wall, full of postcards with notes from family members on them, a small television sat on a stand, post-its covering one of its sides with reminders about what shows were on when. He saw a list of the same soap operas his grandmother watched. The fish Lilly had told him about were in a tank nestled in the middle of a book case. Right next to the case was another list, this one of times to feed the fish, instructions for how to change the tank, things like that. In fact, there were lists all over the place. They were on the walls, on the bulletin board, laminated and stuck on table tops, he even saw one in the corner of one of the windows.

"It's great." He was still smiling until he spotted a framed black and white picture on the wall. It was then that his mouth opened in shock. "You knew Fred Astaire?"

"How old are you?" Opal questioned him, an amused smile turning up the corners of her mouth.

"Sixteen."

"A sixteen year old boy actually knows who Fred Astaire is?"

Oliver nodded his head vigorously. "My grandmother and I watch a marathon of his movies every Easter. Her favorite is 'Easter Parade,' but I like 'Top Hat' cause it's funnier."

"I think this ones a keeper," Lola whispered to Lilly conspiratorially.

"Yeah, I know," she agreed, patting him on the leg. "But, I think we should get over to breakfast. Like you said, we want to get the good seats."

"But I want to hear about Fred Astaire!" Oliver protested.

"Oh, honey, I can tell you while we walk." Lola climbed to her feet, swaying a little bit, and she gestured to a cane hanging on the door handle to a closet. Lilly jumped up, raced to grab the item, and handed it over to her great aunt. "Now, I met Fred at one of those fancy Hollywood parties when I was just a young thing."

"What were you doing in Hollywood?" Lilly asked. She had already heard this story, but it was always a good idea to keep Lola on track.

"I wanted to be a dancer. I didn't really have the feet for ballet, and I was kind of on the short side, but I ran away from home anyway and I took up tap dancing instead. I met a lot of famous people when I came out here." Lola, using the cane, walked swiftly to the door as she spoke, not appearing to need the cane at all, pausing at one of the smaller shelves near the front door to grab a book.

"I guess this is one of her good days," Oliver whispered to Lilly, letting her step just ahead of him.

"Looks like it."

While they walked across a courtyard and into the main building, Oliver listened as Lola told him all about her days waiting tables at a fancy Hollywood night club. She met several stars, and she got autographs from them all, but Fred was the only one she framed because he saved her job.

"How did he do that?" Oliver wanted to know, holding the glass door to the blue and white building where they had arrived.

"Well, one of the people at his table complained that I was too slow, that I had gotten their drink orders wrong, all kinds of things. Turned out he was upset because he hit on me and I wasn't interested. He was one of those actor types who thought he could have any girl he wanted, but I wasn't having any of it. He had a fit, and the manager was all set to fire me, but Fred explained it all, and he danced with me to boot... He was such a wonderful dancer."

She smiled, her eyes far away as she stood there on tiled floor amid the white walls. Lilly was sure Lola was seeing something very different, like a hardwood dance floor, plush chairs, delicate centerpieces, and a big brass band. Lilly decided it was probably a good idea to bring her back to the present.

"Dad's really sorry he couldn't come this week. But he's trying to drum up business, you know."

"Oh, yes, well, that's alright. He always wants to play math games with me anyway. Says it'll keep my mind sharp." Lola rolled her eyes and led them to a card table in one of the far corners of the room, right next to a large window overlooking the pool. "I try to tell him that my mind is sharp; just because I can't remember everything all the time doesn't mean I'm stupid."

Lilly giggled and said, "don't feel too bad. He tries to get me to play math games with him too. I'm getting pretty good at Sudoku though."

"That's not a math game," Oliver interrupted, "that's just a puzzle."

Lilly stuck her tongue out at him while he pulled out a chair for Lola. Breakfast was served only a few minutes after they got there: French toast, fresh fruit, bacon, and coffee. It was the same menu every Saturday. According to Lilly, the staff tried to keep everyone on a schedule so as not to confuse any of the residents. Before eating, Lola removed her beret, sitting it along with her cane in the empty seat at their table, and she placed her book on her left side, the cover side down, so Lilly couldn't see what it was. She fluffed her curls up as she took a sip of her coffee and Oliver shot Lilly a grin.

"So tell me, how come these are the best seats?"

Lilly giggled when he asked the question and looked down at the table.

"Don't you see that this window looks out at the pool?" When Oliver nodded, Lola continued, "Charles Carmichael does laps with his physical therapist before he comes to breakfast every morning. All the girls want this table." Lola inclined her head pointedly to a pair of older women with pinched faces and stooped shoulders who had to make due with a table a few feet away. They were whispering furiously to one another. Or at least, they were trying to, but one of them appeared to be hard of hearing, so there were a few loud remarks about Lola beating them there again. Lola sighed while she looked out the window and said, "of course, Charles is no Clark Gable or anything, but he does move so gracefully through the water. He used to be a champion swimmer, or, at least, that's what I heard from the other gossips."

"No kidding," Oliver remarked, spearing a piece of pineapple and chewing thoughtfully. "This place has its very own Gabe Lamotti," he whispered to Lilly when he saw that Lola was keeping her gaze out the window. Instead of commenting, she smacked him lightly in the arm. Speaking in a normal tone, he told Lola, "You should ask him to have lunch with you one day, see if he talks as well as he swims."

"Oh, pfft." Lola waved him off. "He's got his heart set on Annabel." She pointed with her fork to a table over by the piano on the other end of the room. A woman sat there, her back straight, a deep blue sweater tight around her thin shoulders, her dark hair pulled back in a severe bun, a pair of glasses perched on the end of her nose. "She plays the piano whenever her daughter comes to visit, but she hasn't been by in a few weeks now." Lola cleared her throat and began to methodically slice her French toast into tiny pieces. "She doesn't pay any attention to Charles though. She says she's too old to fall in love again." She shook her head, speaking around the bite she took of her food. "That's just sad. I don't think you're ever too old for love." There was a lilt to her voice that said Lola might have known a bit more than she was saying, but she didn't add to the story.

Pushing the food around on the plate in front of her, Lilly didn't say anything, but her gaze kept being drawn back to that woman. It really was sad. Lola must have sensed her thoughts, so she steered the conversation to more pleasant topics, wanting to know all about their friends, how school was going, any good movies they had seen, everything. She avoided any further talk of love.

They talked through breakfast, a few poker games (where Lola did win most of the bag of M&Ms, even though Oliver was trying), a game of shuffle board (which Lilly still didn't understand), a tour of the grounds, and then, Lola was leaning more heavily on her cane, so it was Lilly who suggested they head back to the rec room where they had eaten breakfast so she could sit down for a while. Oliver tried to hold on to her arm to help her along, but Lola refused his help, firmly clutching on to the book she hadn't yet told them about, but still insisted on carrying. By the time they got back to the main building, she was breathing heavily, barely putting one foot in front of the other. Oliver held the door open for her again, just as he had earlier in the morning, but it took Lola much longer to get through the doorway this time, and her preferred table was already taken, not that it mattered, since Charles Carmichael was sitting in an armchair by another window reading a book.

Settled at a table near the entrance, Lilly eyed Lola anxiously. Lola was looking exhausted now, and since it was close to noon, she really shouldn't have been surprised. Her dad was usually on his way home by now, but Lilly couldn't bring herself to go just yet. She wanted to make sure Lola was alright.

The older woman placed her book on the table in front of her, still not opening it. Glancing up at Oliver, who hadn't yet sat down, she asked, "Olly, be a dear, and get me a glass of water?"

"Sure." Oliver nodded, hands in his pockets and he strolled across the room to the water cooler.

"You feeling okay?" Lilly whispered.

"Oh, I'm alright. Just a little tired." Lola reached out, patting one of Lilly's hands to reassure her.

With her hands not clinging to the book anymore, Lilly was able to see that the cover was a dark brown with no writing across it. It didn't look like a regular book, like a novel or anything. It looked like it was made of leather actually, like a fancy journal, even tied off at the open side of the pages.

"Have you ever wondered, Lilly, what would have happened if you went backwards and did things differently?"

Lola's eyes bored into her own, and she swallowed a little uncomfortably. Most people Lola's age wouldn't bother to ask a teenager something like that, figuring they didn't have enough experience to give a good answer to that kind of question. Lilly glanced over her shoulder in the direction of Oliver, remembering the feeling of finding out he was dating someone she hated before she had even admitted how she felt about him to herself. That had been painful, and maybe if she had told him how she felt earlier, she wouldn't have felt like they wasted so much time, but she shook her head. They hadn't really wasted time. They weren't ready.

"No. I mean, I don't think I would do anything differently. One different decision and I could be someone else completely, right? Everything would change."

"Yes." Lola sighed, one frail hand tapping on her book. "I've been thinking about that a lot though. You know that I like to make my lists?"

Lilly nodded her head with a smile. "You like to keep track of things."

"Mmm hmm. I've always done that. To do lists. Grocery lists. Books I wanted to read. Places I wanted to visit. People I wanted to meet. I started a new list." Lola began to untie the string. "A list of things I never did, some things I started and never finished, things that I want to," her hand shook as she turned to the last few pages of the book, "things I want to do before I'm gone."

"Aunt Lola, you-"

"No, no. Don't tell me I'm not going anywhere. I could live forever, but my mind is going. I know. I'm lucky I remembered who you were all morning." She shook her head ruefully before looking over at Oliver. He had been stopped by a woman in a wheel chair who was showing him her jewelry. "I know I won't get to do them all, and your father won't listen to me, so," clearing her throat, Lola struggled to give her request, "I want you to finish for me if I can't get to them all, alright? I'll let you take it with you so you can see them." She closed the book again.

"Well, I," Lilly whispered, her eyes shining as Lola pushed the leather bound journal over to her. Her throat closed up and she bit her lip when Oliver placed a plastic cup of cold water down on the table, sliding a chair out and taking a seat. "Yeah," she said finally her voice high and shrill, "yeah, of course I will."

"Good." Lola patted her hand again, then took a sip of water from the cup. "I thought I ordered a gin and tonic, bartender," she said to Oliver who started, worrying that she didn't know who she was, but she gave him a quick smile. "Just kidding. Now, you know, normally I would ask you to break me out of this joint, but what do you say we save that for next time? My hip's acting up again, and I think I'm going to get Genie to take me back to my room for a nap."

"Genie? Does she have a lamp?" Oliver joked, sensing that the mood was a little more serious than when he left.

"Genie's one of the nurses," Lola explained. "You two should get back home and enjoy the rest of your weekend, alright?" She gave a gentle smile as she spoke and squeezed Lilly's fingers with the small amount of strength she could muster. "You bring Olly back and see me some time though, see if he can win some candy back from me." She gave a quick wink.

Oliver chuckled and told her he would definitely come back, after all, they hadn't even had a chance to talk soap operas yet.

***

Oliver knew something was wrong on the way home. Lilly had her hands clutched around the journal she held in her lap, her gaze fixed on something out the window, and she didn't even complain when he started playing a Coldplay album to fill the silence. They passed more than half an hour without speaking, Lilly sighing every so often, and Oliver wanting to ask what it was that made Lilly so sad. But he didn't. Instead, he stopped at a gas station after fifteen more minutes, putting a few dollars worth of fuel into the car just in case, and running inside to buy a couple bottles of water. He handed her one when he came back to the car, and she took it without speaking, just wrapping her fingers around the plastic and balancing the bottle on her knee.

"You want to tell me what's making you so sad?" he asked as he pulled the car back on to the highway.

Lilly sighed, putting the bottle of water in a cup holder and wiping the condensation left from it on her hand on to her tee shirt. "Lola asked me to do something for her."

Oliver waited, eyes darting back and forth from the road to the girl next to him.

When Lilly realized he wasn't going to make her say anything, she chewed on the inside of her cheek while deciding what to tell him. "Well, you see, Lola likes to make lists, right?"

"Right. I thought she did that to help herself remember things. Like the TV schedule?"

"Yeah. She does. But, she loved making lists before that too. You know, how people make to do lists for spring cleaning or-"

"How you make a list of all of your assignments in order of importance before you decide what to work on?" he cut in, a half smile on his face.

"Yeah, like that." Lilly slowly began to untie the leather strip keeping the notebook in her lap closed. "Well, she's been thinking a lot lately, when she can remember, about things she wishes she had done differently, stuff she wants to fix."

"Like Earl?"

"Who?"

"Never mind, it's a TV show, not important." Oliver shook his head, his bangs flying out of his eyes, and turned the air conditioning down, noticing that goosebumps were gathering on Lilly's arms.

"Okay... She made a list. It's at the back of this book." She paused, her fingers stopping their work on the knot. "She asked me to finish doing the things on the list if she doesn't get to."

"Oh." He nodded in understanding, and slowed the car. They were over half way home now, but he thought Lilly might need a little more time before actually going home. Guiding the car into a deserted parking lot outside of a barbecue restaurant with a for sale sign in the front window, he said, "You're gonna do it though, right?"

She swallowed and her voice was high and thin as she told him, "of course I am! I just don't know, I mean, it's weird to think about, okay?"

Nodding again, Oliver cut the engine and asked, "so what's on the list?"

"I don't know."

"She didn't tell you anything?"

"No." One of her fingers ran down the spine of the book and she tied the strap back together. "I'm not gonna look at it yet." Placing the journal into her bag, she added, "she told us to enjoy the day, so let's enjoy the day. I'll worry about it tomorrow."

"You sure?"

Lilly nodded, forcing a smile on her face, noticing that the car was parked for the first time. "Why'd we stop?

"Okay, where to, milady?" Oliver started the car back up while he spoke, still concerned.

"The beach or the mall?" she fired back, knowing those were always the first things they thought of. Good standbys for distraction.

"Hmm... how about the mall? You know, we can see a movie or something if you get bored walking around."

Lilly gave a wry smile. "What movie is it that you want to see?"

Oliver edged the car back on to the road, not looking at her when he responded, "what makes you think there's a movie?"

"Oliver. Come on. I know you."

"Okay, there's this new one with this guy who goes diving for buried treasure, but he gets caught by pirates and it looks awesome." He gestured wildly with one hand as he spoke.

She rolled her eyes and gave a slight chuckle. "That sounds fun. Let's do that with lots of junk food."

"Done." Pressing his foot down to the gas pedal, he held out an arm, and Lilly folded into his side.

"Why are we listening to Coldplay?"

***


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This almost didn't get updated today because I couldn't get on the internet where I was earlier, but the library has saved me as usual. By the way, I know my stories don't usually have a lot of Miley in them, but you can expect her to pop up in this story, particularly the next couple of chapters. I feel like I neglect her, and I've been trying to work her in to more of my stories lately. Writing for Miley is usually more of a challenge for me, so if you don't like her, I apologize, but she's going to be sticking around.**

*****  
**

Stretching languidly on the bed, Lilly pushed her history textbook aside. She wished she knew why any teacher would schedule an exam for the week before Spring Break. They had to know that not a single student would be paying attention in class for those five days before a whole week of freedom, too keyed up, anticipating beaches and bathing suits instead of number two pencils and school bells. Spring Break was like the first taste of summer; it was what made you hold out until the end of the school year without going completely insane.

Instead of dreaming about the beach that was so close she could hear the waves through the open balcony door, Lilly was trying to cram into her head all of the major dates associated with World War II, and failing.

"What about the pink one with the sequins?" Miley called from the depths of her closet. Okay, really, she was yelling out from the depths of the Hannah closet behind her own closet.

Lilly rolled her eyes. Every door and window in the room was open, letting in warm breezes, and Miley was hiding behind racks of clothes where the air was still stuffy with the feel of winter. Figures.

"Miley, you don't have any Hannah events for three whole weeks. Not this one. Not Spring Break. And not the week after. Can you please come back and help us study?"

"You guys are taking up the whole bed," Miley shot back, sounding even farther away.

Turning her head to look at Oliver, who was somehow still focused on the timeline of events in front of him, Lilly yelled back, "I'll make Oliver sit on the floor."

"You'll make me?" he asked softly out of the corner of his mouth before biting down on a pencil and turning a page, obviously intent on checking something in his book.

"I can be very persuasive when I want to be," she responded, leaning toward him, the tips of her fingers reaching for the pencil. He let her take it, kissing the back of her hand when she did, and she smiled, feeling the familiar sensation of butterflies in her stomach. It never went away.

"That you can," he agreed, dropping his book on the floor with a thud and leaning in as well.

"If you guys are gonna be makin' out, I'm gonna go back to lookin' for clothes for the Tween Scene Awards." Miley was standing at the entrance to her closet now, arms crossed, a bored expression on her face.

"No, you're not. We're studying." Lilly huffed when Miley gave her a look of disbelief. "Fine. I'll move." Grabbing her books and her notes, she padded softly over to the raised section of flooring that led out to the balcony and took a seat. "See?"

Instead of taking the spot on her own bed that her best friend had just vacated, Miley collapsed onto the floor in front of it with a groan. She laid on her back, staring at the ceiling, fingernails picking at the carpet. Lilly and Oliver exchanged amused glances that she couldn't see. Before high school, Miley had been the best student out of the three of them. Now, she was way too easily bored. She still managed to maintain her B average, but if she would just sit still and focus, things would probably have been even easier for her.

"I hate history," she muttered in the direction of the ceiling. "Some dead guy did something, another guy died, a war broke out, a bunch of people fought, tragedy. That's all we need to know."

"Yeah, you should write that down as the answer to your essay question," Oliver shot back, shaking his hair out of his face.

"There's an essay question? I thought this was gonna be multiple choice!" Miley groaned again and her heels banged into the floor in a moment of irritation.

"You have to pick one event that you think caused the U. S. to join in on World War II," Lilly explained, "and you can't use Pearl Harbor as an excuse."

"But isn't that why America joined?" Miley asked blankly, still not moving from her spot on the floor.

"Just an excuse." This time it was Oliver talking. "The government used the bombing as a way to get the public to support the war. It gave them the extra push, but it isn't why they really joined."

"Well, what was?"

"Aren't you in the same class we're in?" he asked. "Where are your notes?" He was glaring at her from where he sat on her bed, several pages of notebook paper spread out in front of him now that he had closed his book.

"Fine, fine, I'm really going to study now." She reached up blindly with one hand, almost stabbing her hand on the pencil Lilly discarded when she got up, before spotting Oliver's book on her carpet. She switched tactics, her grip settling around his abandoned text, and she set to work going through the same timeline he had been perusing moments earlier.

The minutes ticked by, and Lilly was beginning to regret her decision to sit by the balcony doors. The salt in the air and the sounds of the sea gulls were almost too much for her. Her skin was practically itching for beach sand and cold ocean water. Always the perfect combination to drown out anything going on in her brain. She closed her eyes and listened to the distant sound of waves breaking on the shore, kids laughing, and a breeze blowing the fronds of the palm trees. Her imagination was conjuring images of what must have been going on at the shoreline.

Todd was probably out on the waves, he always spent the weekend before a test surfing in an effort to clear his head. Though Todd spent most of his free time surfing, so his head was mainly filled with water anyway. If the sounds of people laughing and playing were any indication, The Shack was probably packed with people ordering smoothies and bottled water to quench the thirst the salty air provided. Ice cream cones were likely in pretty high demand since it was such warm weather as well. Plus, they were also the safest things to eat at Rico's Shack since everything else was full of grease.

Opening her eyes, Lilly sighed, and her gaze caught Oliver's. Miley was now completely absorbed in history facts, tapping the page of the book with one of her fingers as her lips formed words she needed to remember. Oliver, on the other hand, looked ready for a break. Unlike Miley, he had been studying since they got here two hours ago, not in ten minute bursts here and there. Lilly had been trying to as well, but her brain was beginning to get fried from all of the information she was supposed to be shoving inside of it. She broke the staring contest first, crossing one ankle over the other, and leaning her head back, letting the sunlight shining in warm her face.

It was kind of like being down at the beach.

Okay, not really, but she was just going to take a quick break to clear her mind. She took a few deep breaths like they taught you in yoga and pushed everything else away, focusing only on the heat of the sun on her skin.

It had only been a few moments of deep breaths and warmth before Miley asked, "what are you doing?"

When Oliver didn't answer, Lilly knew the question was directed at her. "Meditating."

"You said we were studying."

"I've been studying. It's your turn."

"But the test isn't even 'til Wednesday, so really, I have two more days to study." There was a pause and Miley decided to add, "besides, I already memorized all the dates, so that's a big part of the multiple choice stuff done, right?"

"Wait, the test isn't until Wednesday?" Oliver asked loudly. He pointed accusingly at Lilly. "You told me it was tomorrow."

"We-ell, look at it this way, now you're much better prepared." Lilly sat up, gave a tight smile and small shrug, and he answered by throwing a pillow in her direction.

Miley chuckled while Lilly ducked, then shut the book with an air of finality that let the other two teenagers know she had no plans to do anymore studying that afternoon. She flipped her hair over her shoulder, the bracelets on her wrist jangling as they moved up and down her arm, then said, "You never told me if Oliver embarrassed himself in front of your aunt or not."

"He didn't."

"Really?" Miley pouted. "I was kind of hoping that he knocked over a table or fell in a pool or something." A pillow landed by her now.

"Not this time," Lilly murmured. Her throat closed off for a second and she turned to look out at the sky behind her. It was such a bright blue that the few white clouds marring it were a stark contrast. It was as though someone had taken a sponge dipped in paint and forced the white into the sky.

Miley waited to hear more, but Lilly didn't offer up any information, so she craned her neck to look at Oliver. "Well, what happened?"

"Uh," Oliver scratched the back of his neck as he spoke, "we played some poker and Lola won. Then we played shuffle board and Lola won." He groped for a topic he thought would actually interest Miley. "Did you know Lola knew a bunch of movie stars? She used to wait tables at big Hollywood club."

"What kind of movie stars?"

"Fred Astaire, Judy Garland, Bing Crosby."

"Cool." She thought for a second. "Anybody who's still alive, Oliver?" Miley asked him curiously.

"Uh... not that I know of." He dangled his legs off the edge of the bed, just near her shoulder, but he wasn't looking at her, he was looking at Lilly.

Miley's eyes narrowed and she shot her gaze back and forth from one of her friends to the other. Ever since they started dating they would do this. In the middle of conversations one of them would just be staring at the other, paying no attention whatsoever to the topic at hand. At least, that's what she thought was going on until she spotted the carefully blank look on Lilly's face. She was still turned slightly, staring out the balcony, her gaze a million miles away. She was the one who wasn't paying attention, not Oliver. Oliver must have just been worried.

"What happened?"

"What do you mean?" Oliver's voice was soft, like he didn't want to disturb Lilly.

"I mean, what happened that made Lilly look all..." she jutted her chin out, gesturing to the other girl, "that."

He hesitated, his heels hitting the mattress, and he pushed himself forward, closer to Miley. "I think you should ask her." He got up and started gathering all of his notes together, shoving them into a folder.

"Lilly?" Miley was tentative, not wanting to upset her. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Mmm hmm." Lilly was off the floor in an instant walking to Miley's wicker dresser, rifling through the bag she had left on top of it. "It's just that Lola asked me to do something for her, and I said yes, but I don't know if I can."

"You looked at the list?" Oliver interrupted, dropping his folder on the carpet right next to his textbook where Miley had abandoned it. He joined her at the dresser.

"What list?" Miley asked, but she was ignored.

Lilly nodded her head, blond hair framing her face. "This morning. I was curious. But I don't even know what some of them mean."

"Well, what about the rest of the book?"

"What book?" Again, Miley was ignored.

"Not yet. I couldn't bring myself to go through all of it."

Oliver nodded his head in understanding, but Miley groaned in frustration and climbed to her feet. "What are you talking about?"

Lilly pulled the leather bound journal from her bag and recounted her conversation with her great aunt. She placed the book on the surface of the desk while she talked, slowly untying the strap, just like yesterday in the car with Oliver, but this time she let it out completely, flipping open the book to the last page with writing on it. A black pen was used to scrawl the list down the length of the paper. The handwriting was small and curly, andthere were so many scribbles and words crossed through, it was kind of difficult to read just what was in some of the slots. The first item on the list was clear though.

_Give Rachel the real recipe._

Miley tapped a red nail on the first word. "And who is Rachel?"

"I have no idea," Lilly told her with a helpless shrug. She pointed to the very last sentence on the page though, where the words had been gone over again and again, bold strokes underlining them for emphasis. "But this one looks like it's really important."

_Find Max. _

"I take it we don't know who Max is either?" Miley remarked, settling one elbow on the top of her dresser and leaning on her hand.

"Nope." Lilly shook her head, walking away and letting the other two try to decipher some of the remaining items. Crossing her arms, she paced while Miley squinted at the words on the page and Oliver held the book out in front of him as though distance would make the words more legible. It didn't.

"I think this one says something about Alice or Alicia or something." Miley opened her eyes wider and tried Oliver's technique of backing away from the book to see if the words were any clearer.

"It has a line through it though," he told her, "so that one's probably finished."

"Oh, good point." She perused the list again, then added, "but it looks like almost everything's crossed out."

"Hunh. She's right." Oliver looked over at Lilly. "I only see one other thing that isn't crossed out." He inclined his head to the book and Lilly shifted back up to his side, right in between him and Miley. "See?"

_Apoplexy to snakes?_

No. That couldn't be it.

_Apologize _

It definitely said apologize. But was that snakes? No. Maybe Sunday or Sandy?

_Apologize to Sandy._

Lilly blinked. "I don't know who Sandy is either. Why would she ask me to finish her list for her if it's full of people she never told me about?"

"Well, what's in the rest of this thing? I mean, the list is practically on the last set of pages. What else did she use this for?" The three of the them were standing shoulder to shoulder when Miley asked the question. She glanced at Lilly, but Lilly just shrugged, the bare skin on her arms rustling the fabric of her friends' shirts. She hadn't looked at anything but the list. "Can I look at the first page?" she asked.

"Yeah... yeah, sure." Keeping her arms crossed, Lilly nodded her head. Oliver slipped an arm around Lilly's waist and waited for Miley to turn to the front.

Miley stood up straight and began flipping backwards through the pages. She didn't stop to read until she got to the first one, but there were a few photos, ticket stubs, even some leaves sandwiched in the book. The writing became more and more legible the closer to the beginning her fingers traveled, and she came to a stop on the inside front cover. Clearing her throat, she read aloud, her southern drawl more exaggerated than usual:

"_I, Lola Agnes Truscott, realize that I may no longer be of sound mind very shortly, and it is for that reason that I am recording what I remember of the momentous occasions in my life. Everyone makes mistakes, and I have made more than my share. I plan to fix them, or at least, as many of them as I can. These pages will be my map if I forget, or if I have to leave the task to someone else."_

She had signed the bottom of the page in swirling script.

"So it's like a journal?" Oliver clarified.

"Pretty much," Miley agreed, tracing a pattern of flowers across the top of the next page. They were orange blossoms. She looked up at Lilly, who was also staring at the flowers in surprise. They had been drawn with the same black ink that penned the rest of the pages. Apparently, Lola was more artistic than even Lilly knew. "You want me to keep reading?"

"I don't know." Lilly sighed. "I know she asked me to do this for her, but it just feels wrong, you know? Like... these are her secrets or something." She tilted her head to the side and ran a finger down the page below Miley's hand. "I feel like I'm snooping around stuff that isn't any of my business."

"Yeah, but Lola likes to tell you stories about her past. You probably already know a lot of what she wrote down." Running his hand up and down Lilly's waist, Oliver pulled her a little bit closer to him. "And I doubt any of it's going to be huge secrets, like things Lola should go to prison for or something."

Lilly giggled, and when she was done the smile stayed on her face. "I wouldn't put it passed Lola to have broken a few laws. I told you, she was the wild one on my dad's side of the family."

"She sounds awesome," Miley said with a smile. "Hey, maybe next time I can go with you to see her. And I'll help you with the list. We'll figure it out together."

"We both will," Oliver added.

"Really? You guys would do that?"

"What are best friends for?" Miley goaded. "I mean, if we can't help you go through your great aunt's memories, maybe unearthing a few family secrets, who else can?" She smiled and tapped the paper. "So? How about if I read the first entry?"

"Okay."

Lilly was mildly surprised when Miley took the journal from the surface of the dresser and began walking the length of her bedroom with it, taking deep breaths and clearing her throat as though she was preparing for a theater performance, but she shouldn't have been. Miley had always had a flair for the dramatic. And she called Lilly the drama queen. Ha.

Miley thumbed through the next couple of pages, checking the length of the first entry until she found the end of it marked with another row of orange blossoms at the bottom of the sheet of paper. "You might want to sit down," she teased, "this looks like it might be a little long."

Lilly laughed again and added an eye roll for Oliver's benefit before they took seats at the foot of Miley's bed.

"Okay, here we go." Miley paused. "Should I get into character for this, or do you just want me to read it."

Oliver groaned and fell back on the bed.

"Just read it," Lilly told her with a shake of her head.

"Right." Miley cleared her throat one last time and began.

"_Summer, 1945_

_When I was 14 years old, one of the only girls that I was friends with in school moved away. (I had always been able to make friends with boys much easier, but my parents never understood that. That's one of the reasons they enrolled me in a ballet class when I was very young.) Alice _**-**Ha! I knew it was Alice!- _Stevens and her family moved all the way across the country to the middle of Florida._

_Florida, for goodness sake! I had never been there in my whole life, but I'd heard that it was an awful place. Full of mosquitoes and alligators and all kinds of other things. Of course, most of that information came from my mother who was always in full makeup and high heels when she traveled, and I don't think she had ever been to Florida at this point either. _

_Well, anyway, you might be wondering why the Stevens family traded the lovely Pacific coastline for that of the Atlantic. As it turned out, Mr. Stevens, or Lloyd as he preferred we all call him, was originally from the Sunshine State. His parents owned an orange grove and sold their fruit to local markets. When his father died in late 1944, Lloyd tried to send instructions to workers in the mail at the the grove, but it just didn't work out very well. They sold their California house and made a home on the grove's property._

_I guess Alice had just as hard a time of it as I did because she invited me to spend the summer at the orange grove with her family. My mother didn't want me to go. That wasn't a surprise to anybody. But, my father decided that spending the summer in Florida, away from all of my siblings, would be good for me. Now, that was a surprise. Maybe he thought some of Alice's good girl behavior would rub off on me. (Yes, you can laugh here.) If that's what he wanted, I'm sure he was sorely disappointed._

_I arrived at the Stevens Plantation, and it was like a plantation out of a movie, not like one of those cheaply made farm houses, a few weeks after they had already started picking the oranges. The mosquitoes were pretty awful, I had welts on my legs almost as big as the oranges until I learned not to scratch them, but I never saw an alligator. I learned how to balance on the ladder, snip the orange stem in just the right spot, and put the fruit in the bag over my shoulder. I could pick with the best of them. And I learned how to make orange juice, orange julius, candied oranges, orange marmalade, all kinds of things. And I had so much fun, running around without shoes on, flirting with older boys at the soda fountain down the street, swimming in lakes that were probably full of bugs. It was the kind of trip that would have given my mother a coronary. _

_Then, the week before I was scheduled to go home, I noticed something. There was a group of boys from just down the highway who came up to work for the summer. They seemed to know everybody, but they were a lot older than me, so I didn't pay a whole lot of attention to them, and they didn't pay much to me. We exchanged pleasantries when we passed in the same groups of trees. I talked to them about the chances of rain if I came across them early in the morning. (They were camping out in a tent on the edge of the plantation property, right before the groves started.) They were nice boys, and I may have been a trouble maker, but I didn't go out looking for that kind of trouble. Ali was actually a few years older than me, even though we had been friends for a couple of years. She had actually been friends with one of my older sisters first. I thought that she might not have had too many qualms about getting into trouble though._

_I don't mean any real trouble. She was a really sweet girl, you understand. She just always made sure that the boys were comfortable, even though they were camping out on the floor. She gave them all kinds of tricks for getting the mosquitoes to stay away from them, made sure they got to bathe up in the house, made them breakfast, she was a really good hostess. But it did seem that she paid them a lot of extra attention. I saw quite a few looks passing between Ali and one of the boys in particular, his name was Michael. She snuck glances at him around orange trees. He caught her when she was falling off one of the ladders once. It all seemed very romantic. Until I realized there was a whole lot of sweaty palms and pink faces, but nothing ever happened between them. When I confronted Ali about it, she said she was too scared of what her daddy would think, so she never said anything to Michael. The boys' time at the groves came to an end and they loaded themselves up in their truck and spun their tires in the mud. Ali had given them a couple of bags of oranges as a thank you for all of their hard work, even though they had already been paid by her parents. _

_They next day, I'd never seen someone so depressed. I'm sure Ali didn't sleep a wink the night before. Her face was all pale and dark circles, even though we'd gotten plenty of sun that summer. Ali was just so unfocused. She cut her finger with the clippers, she dropped her bag of oranges. She sighed whenever anyone talked about the summer ending. This went on for a couple more days, and I had just about had enough. Everyone thought it was just because she didn't want to go back to school, but I knew better. I knew she missed Michael. _

_I decided that I was just going to have to do something about it. It wouldn't do to have Ali moping around when I was only going to be there with her for a few more days. I woke her up the middle of the night, told her we were just going to have to go find Michael, tell him how she really felt about him. At first, Ali protested. But, when she saw I wasn't going to take no for an answer, she climbed out of her bedroom window with me and helped me steal her daddy's car. We drove for three hours, the sun just starting to come up when we reached Michael's parent's house. But Michael wasn't there. His mother and sister were very nice, inviting us to stay for breakfast, but we kept driving to where they said he was._

_The Keys. Key West actually, before it became so popular and a way for the tourism board to cash in. In those days it was all greasy diners or seafood restaurants, tiny hotels, and fishermen in houseboats. It was heaven. The moment we crossed the water and hit the island, there was so much going on. So much to look at. People were riding bikes and carrying fishing poles everywhere. The buildings were painted in bright splashes of color. Well, the ones we were close to were anyway. We found the beach where Michael and his dad were staying in no time._

_But Alice was just so shy. She wouldn't get out of the car. I had to go looking for Michael myself and bring him back to where we had parked. Ali was sitting on a bench near by, and when we walked back to her, she looked like she was about to start flopping around just like a fish on a line. She was terrified. Michael took one look at her sitting there twisting her hands around with her eyes wide and he was a goner. I knew he felt the same way. We didn't stay in Key West for very long, just long enough for Michael to decide he was going to abandon his fishing trip and drive back with us._

_He wanted to ask her father's permission to marry her._

_Unfortunately, when we got back, we had neglected to call her family or let them know anything about what we were doing. Her father practically had steam coming out of his ears. When he heard what Michael had to say, he told him, and I remember it exactly, 'no daughter of mine is marrying the son of a fisherman. He'll go nowhere.' When Ali tried to reason with him he added that if she wanted to be with Michael so badly, then she wasn't his daughter anymore. Grandma Stevens was there, and she fainted on the spot. Now, Alice was always one of the sweetest people I had ever known, but her face turned to stone and she said that she didn't have a father. _

_She packed a single suitcase and she left. I was sent home to my parents the very same day. Longest trip of my life._

_Sure, it might have sounded great in the movies, romantic and everything, but I felt terrible. The family was completely torn apart. The whole argument was my fault. If I had never encouraged Ali to drive south with me to tell Michael how she felt, none of it would have happened. It was the first time I'd really seen the ugly side of what love could do to someone._

_A month later though, I got a letter from Alice. She was happy. She thought her father would forgive her eventually. After all, a son of a fisherman couldn't be much worse than the son of a farmer, right?"_

"They had to have made up, right?" Oliver interrupted, his face panicked. "I mean, Lola didn't leave this on her list, so there must be a reason."

Miley turned to the next page of the journal with a shrug, then her eyes widened. "Yeah, hang on, there's a note on the back of the last page here." She smiled as she read.

"_My story about Alice isn't one of my regrets or a mistake I wish I could correct. Not anymore. _

_Alice and I drifted apart over the years, but I got in touch with her daughter, her and Michael's daughter, when I started making my list. I only had three things written down for sure when Juliet (I know, I think she picked the name on purpose too) responded to my inquiry. Her mother and her grandfather did make up, when she was born. And they actually inherited the orange groves next. The groves aren't in the family anymore, they sold them to one of those big companies to send Juliet to college. She's a teacher. But she said her parents never regretted their decision, so I had nothing to apologize for. _

_It was the first item on my list I got to cross off."_

"Aw, that's really sweet," Lilly whispered, leaning into Oliver's side, her head resting against his shoulder. "If all of Lola's stories are like that, maybe this won't be so bad."

"Yeah." Miley closed the journal with a wistful sigh and plopped onto the foot of her bed. There may have even been a few tears in her eyes.

"But it's a good thing you didn't have to get a hold of Alice's family," Oliver cut in.

"Why?" the girls asked him.

"Well, all she told you was that they were the Stevens family in Florida. She didn't tell you Michael's last name, she didn't say what town they lived in. That could have taken forever to track them down." It was a good thing one of them had an experienced detective in their family, because neither of the girls even noticed that until he pointed that out.

"Oh my gosh. Lilly, he's right." Miley shook her head. "Her story had a lot of details, but not helpful ones."

Lilly rolled her eyes. "You guys, it might turn out that all of these mistakes are already fixed. I might not have to do anything." She held out her hands and took the journal from Miley, beginning to tie the leather strap again. One story was enough for today.

"There are still three things she didn't cross off the list... and a whole lot more stories to go," Miley pointed out.

***


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry about the wait for this one. I had a slight glitch with internet and time and everything the last few days. Hopefully, I'll be able to get the next chapter up tomorrow though.**

***

The next morning at school, Lilly's thoughts were all over the place. She knew just how scattered Alice must have felt after Michael left her at the orange grove. She paid partial attention in her morning classes, her thoughts alternating between the history midterm she would have to take in a couple of days and Lola's words on the pages of her leather bound journal. This led to a lot of doodling and half finished notes in her folders, and she knew she'd be copying Miley's notes at some point. It was a good thing they had a lot of the same teachers, or she probably would not have understood anything from that morning. Everything went in one ear and out the other. She didn't even notice that she made her best time while running the mile in gym.

She was so distracted between her second and third classes that she spent almost the entire time before the bell trying to open a locker that wasn't even hers. Luckily, Oliver passed her on his way to class, wanting to know why she was so intent on figuring out the combination to his friend Nick's locker. Sure she was planning some sort of prank, he asked her about it in hushed tones while walking her to the classroom, reminding her that he was still the Locker Doctor and could have easily opened the metal compartment for her, but Lilly irritably informed him she just wasn't paying any attention to what she was doing and that she would need to share his text book because hers was still in her own locker.

At first, he didn't believe her, but when they got into the room she ran into the pencil sharpener mounted on the wall and put her foot in a low lying garbage can before practically falling into her seat, and he realized she was telling the truth. Lilly may have been clumsy every once in a while, but she didn't usually hit every obstacle in her path. He made sure not to pass her any notes or whisper in her ear for the entire class period, something that took almost all of his will power since he never paid that much attention. She didn't need him adding to her distractions. He couldn't help playing with the ends of her hair every so often though, since it was right in front of him and he was bored, but Lilly didn't even notice.

For her fourth class, she was completely on her own. No Oliver to lead her in the right direction and no Miley to borrow notes from, so instead of sitting in her usual seat, she planted herself in the front row, citing forgotten contacts as her reason, though she was obviously wearing them. The teacher didn't question it, and Lilly was mostly okay. There were a few minutes at the end there where she found herself picturing sketches of orange blossoms and wondering what they smelled like, dreaming up other adventures Lola could have had, but she had made it through almost the entire class period without letting her mind wander off, so she considered it a minor victory.

At lunch, she met Miley and Oliver outside, at a table far away from the other students, one that would have been the loser table if it was near the dumpster. Lucky for the trio, the dumpster was on the other side of the building, so the table didn't get any negative labels. Most people were so busy soaking up the almost-spring weather with hackee sacks or frisbees that they wouldn't have paid them any attention anyway.

She plopped down with her tray and shrugged at Miley's "how was Spanish?"

"You make it to your own locker this time?" Oliver joked.

"Yes," Lilly groaned. "I just wasn't paying attention, jeez!" There was a pause and she asked them, "do either of you know what orange blossoms actually smell like?" Miley and Oliver both gave her blank looks. "I was just wondering because, you know, I know what oranges smell like, but I don't think I've ever actually seen the flowers other than pictures, like in Lola's book..."

"Probably still kind of like oranges... but more... flowery?" Oliver said it like a question, not sure if flowery was the right way to describe the scent.

"Softer," Miley supplied with a shrug of her own while she opened a bottle of apple juice.

Lilly unwrapped her turkey sandwich, grateful that they finally had more options than just cafeteria food, but also realized she would probably be making herself a sandwich for dinner later when she went into work at the sub shop, and she lost some of her appetite. Instead, she picked up her apple, taking a big bite, and then speaking around the fruit in her mouth to say, "I just keep thinking about what else Lola has in her book. It's like a story or something, you know? I want to see what happens next."

Miley broke off a piece of one of the chocolate chip cookies in front of her while Lilly chewed, asking, "do you have the book with you? We can read another one."

"Yeah, hang on." She set her apple back down and rummaged around in her backpack.

When she had been getting ready for school that morning, she hadn't even hesitated to transfer the journal into one of the smaller zip-up pockets. She had thought that if she had a chance, she could use her study hall to go through a couple of the entries and try to figure out who the people were. Her study hall wasn't with Miley or Oliver though either, so it probably would have been lonely research. Of course, that also meant that she wouldn't get easily distracted from the research.

Oliver's water bottle was twisted open with a soft crack and he quickly guzzled half of it down, a slight grimace on his face.

"That is what you get for eating the cafeteria's tacos," Miley quipped. "Those things are awful."

"I know," Oliver agreed with a sigh. "I always think they're going to get better, but they never do."

Lilly located the journal and opened it to the second entry where, coincidently, there was a flier that was probably supposed to act as a menu for one of those tiny roadside taco stands. The kind that had a small window you walked up to in order to get your food, no air conditioning for their employees, and outside seating without the benefit of umbrellas. She fingered the sheet of what used to be a bright yellow paper and showed it to Miley with a wry smile.

"Hey, Oliver," Miley called, "maybe you should check this place out instead."

He slid the paper from her fingers and scanned the list of items on the front. "Do you think this place is still there? We should go after school." The address at the top was just outside the city limits of Malibu.

Lilly rolled her eyes, but said, "I can't. I've got to work, remember?" Then she noticed that there was hand writing on the back. "Wait, what does it say on the other side?"

"Jerry, four o'clock on the seventh. Don't be late." Oliver squinted at the next line. "Need: red lipstick, gold cross, a Bible-thick book, dance shoes, and coat with buttons... Get hair done. Have to get this. What does that mean?"

"Oooh!" Miley let out a squeal. "It sounds like she had an audition for something." Her limited knowledge of Lola included the fact that she had wanted to be a dancer.

"Or a really weird date with a priest," Oliver shot back with a wink.

They both turned to look at Lilly as though she could settle the not so serious argument. "Oh, right," she told them blankly. "I guess I could read it and see." She pushed her tray away, not wanting to get any food on the journal, and smoothed the pages down with her hands. Clearing her throat, she started to read softly, as though she was in the front row of the classroom and hadn't wanted to be called on. Unlike Miley, she didn't feel like giving a performance. Of course, if they had been at one of their houses instead, she probably would have.

"_Spring, 1962_

_The first time I ever had the chance at a lead role on the stage, I figured it was my last chance. (Obviously I had minor roles before, but this was my first chance at a lead.) I was already over thirty years old, you know. Women don't suddenly break into the business when they've reached the age where they should be married, at least, where men think they should be married. And I never did make it in Hollywood. Not as the new Ginger Rogers anyway. I was more like a chorus girl. A few screen credits for kicking my leg up in the background with a dozen other girls. That was all. Ginger made it to the big time. She could do it all. Dance. Sing. Comedy. Drama. You know, she's the one they always talk about when they say 'She did everything he did, but she did it backwards, and in heels.' Ginger was my hero. And I thought Jerry would finally get me my shot._

_Jerry was a sweet kid. He worked for one of the local theaters in the town where I had finally decided I was going to stay and make an attempt at a real, stable life, not far from where my brother lived actually. (If you aren't me and you're reading this, you'll discover that I have a bit of a problem staying in one place for too long. And if you are me, well, maybe you don't remember that about yourself, but you have a tendency to run away.) Jerry had decided to take on the task of directing their musical. He had never directed before, always been one of the assistants that did a ton of the work behind the curtain, and he'd been involved in the theater since he was just a little boy. His father had been an actor. Sometimes it seems like if you really want to get into the arts, you really do have to know somebody who knows somebody. _

_But, anyway, that's not the point._

_The point is, Jerry decided to hold open auditions, not just audition the actors who normally worked with the theater. I missed mine though. I couldn't get off work early enough to make it in time. He told me to meet him for tacos at this little place on the side of the road. It hadn't been there very long, but it was his favorite. So I did, and he had me sing for him, right there, at a table in front of all the customers and with cars motoring by just a few feet away. I'd never had anybody ask me to do that before, but I did it. And I know I don't have the greatest voice, but I had worked on it. A lot. I had saved up tips from one of my waitressing jobs for a whole year to get private lessons from a man who claimed he could make me sound better than Judy Garland. He didn't, but at least I wasn't completely awful. Everyone at the tables clapped for me, on their feet, and it was such a rush. He told me I could come to call backs at the theater that week._

_I got the part. One of the female leads. _

_It was a grueling three weeks of rehearsals, but I was game. I had to ice my feet and my knees every night. Most of the cast was younger than me. Most of them had more energy than me. And most of them wanted to break into fame and fortune too. I thought that I could keep up with them. I really did. My understudy and I got along really well, and I was glad she would be going on if I couldn't, but one night, when I forgot my scarf, I went back to the theater to get it, and there she was. My understudy. On the stage, going through one of my big numbers. _

_And she was amazing. I knew she was better than me. Much better than me. She should have got the part. I left my scarf behind and went home, trying to figure out why Jerry would have given me the part when she was obviously so much better than me. The next day, I had an idea. It came to me when I had a migraine and asked if my understudy could stand in for me for a while. I wanted to see what everyone else thought. See if there was some conspiracy. The scene where the male lead and my character got particularly close, Jerry was shooting daggers out of his eyes at the actor. I did a little bit of investigating. Turned out Jerry and my understudy had been high school sweethearts, and he couldn't bring himself to give her the part._

_Against my better judgment, when I found out there were going to be real agents coming to our little show and scouting the talent, I pretended I hurt my leg and couldn't do any of my dance numbers. I couldn't go on that stage, even if it was just at a little community theater, and take the spotlight away from the girl who really deserved it. I caught the first act from the back of the room on opening night, then I left. She went on to become a Broadway star. Moved out to New York right away. (Well, I had already been to New York, and it wasn't my cup of tea anyway. I'll tell that story later. Can only tell one at a time, you know.)_

_You might think that I was such a good person to give that girl her shot, but really, it was more because I was scared. I didn't want to take her chance away from her, but I thought I would freeze on stage too. When I found out there were agents, I just didn't know if I could handle it. And I knew she could. I didn't want to screw up the whole show. I could've ruined the production for everyone if I let my nerves get the better of me._

_I have wondered though. What if I had done it? What if I had sang and danced my way across that stage? Would I have been a star?"_

Lilly's voice was scratchy when she finished reading, not used to talking for that long without a break, not like Miley who did it on stage once every few days when Hannah was on tour. She took a sip of her water, then closed the folded up taco flier between the pages again, tying the journal shut.

"Do you think she really would have been a star?" Miley asked, her cookie long finished, her chin propped up on one hand while she picked at the rest of her food.

Lilly and Oliver both pondered the question, unsure. "Well, I don't know if she can really sing," Lilly answered softly, "but she's definitely a great actress. At the center, when she moved in last year, she got a bunch of the residents together to act out some of Shakespeare's most memorable scenes. She was a pretty creepy Ophelia."

"Is Ophelia the one who goes crazy or the one who gets accused of cheating on her husband?" Oliver asked, still dissecting his tacos.

"The first one," Lilly and Miley told him in unison.

The three of them chatted about Lola and her stories, but Lilly didn't think they'd have enough time to read anymore before they had to go to class. She ate a few pieces of lettuce and cheese from her sandwich while Miley tried to imagine what Lola would have been like as a movie star. She had yet to see any pictures of Lilly's relative, but she had been imagining her as an older version of Lilly, but more artistically inclined, obviously.

"So, seriously," Oliver cut in as the bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period, "do you guys think the taco place could still be there?"

Lilly shrugged and tossed the remains of her lunch into the garbage can. "You should go, see if it is. You can text me pictures to entertain me at work. It's always slow when I work the earlier shift."

"What about you, Miles? You in?"

"Track down a possibly mythical taco stand where Lola got a standing ovation on the side of the road? Could be cool. I'm in." She slung her backpack over her shoulder and waved a good bye.

"I'll see you guys in English," Lilly said before giving Oliver a quick kiss on the cheek. She missed middle school where she had every class with them. Not seeing them all day was just weird.

She didn't need to worry though because she barely had a chance to notice they weren't in her next classes. Her classes before her study hall were jam packed with discussions, the start of new units, and lightning quick note taking. Didn't teachers realize no one could write that fast? Lilly had developed a strange sort of short hand for her notes which most people couldn't decipher. Sometimes she even forgot what some of the abbreviations she used meant, which was never a good thing when exams came up.

Spending study hall reading Lola's journal though, Lilly was sad when the time was up. Normally she found study hall too quiet. It was too hard to focus in silence. But this time, she was completely engrossed. She got to read an entry about Lola cursing out a cab driver (She apparently wished she hadn't always been so prim and proper with her language since there were a few people she'd like to give a piece of her mind to. Lilly wasn't surprised about that. She had a suspicion Lola had solved her issues with that one the last time she had spoken with Heather Truscott though.), another about the time she was forced to let a stray cat she had snuck home go in a wooded area near by because her mom didn't like cats (she donated money to one of the animal shelters every year as a result of the guilt), and another about a brief affair she had with a professor when she decided to take a few college classes, just to see if she was university material. Lola had no regrets on that one, she just felt it ought to be recorded for its possible use as a romance novel plot, but Lilly was regretting reading about it in the middle of a room full of people. Lola hadn't spared many of the details, and she decided that it might be better for her to read ahead in the journal. She would never have been able to read an entry like that aloud in front of Miley and Oliver.

Well, at least not in front of both of them at the same time. She probably would have been incredibly immature about the whole thing and just dissolved into giggles like a third grader. Oliver would have been grossed out at the thought of Lola in some of those situations, not to mention positions, and then probably want to try out some of them later when the nausea had worn off. Miley would be very business-like and proper about the whole thing, but her face would have been bright red with embarrassment and she never would have wanted to talk about it again, or at least not until she got a new boyfriend.

Yes, she would need to read ahead from now on.

But none of those stories featured the names Rachel, Sandy, or Max anyway, so none of them would really help her finish Lola's list. She could probably just sum them up for her friends later.

***

The English classroom was buzzing with energy when she got there. It probably had something to do with the chalk board covered in huge newspaper clippings and the old fashioned slide projector set up on one of the desks. That, and the person at the front of the room wasn't Miss Dawson.

It was a guy. A young, attractive guy who had his feet propped up on the desk and an Agatha Christie novel open in his hands. His eyes moved impossibly fast across the words on the page, the green of his irises seeming ultra dramatic. He had on sneakers and a pair of jeans, obviously not understanding that teachers had a certain dress code. Of course, he was wearing a navy blue blazer over his tee shirt, so maybe that was his attempt to play by the rules.

Sliding into her desk near the back of the room, in front of Oliver and next to Miley, she whispered, "who is that?"

"No idea," Miley whispered back, "but Amber's been makin' googly eyes at him since she got in here."

"It's grossin' me out," Oliver added, leaning over his desk to place his chin on Lilly's shoulder.

"Yeah, well, she's always gross," she responded, relaxing in her seat, leaning her head slightly against Oliver's.

The late bell rang, and the murmurs in the room slowly died down. The guy at the front of the room didn't say anything though, just calmly turned a page in his book. Then another. When he closed it with a snap, he seemed to realize everyone was staring at him.

"Wanted to finish that chapter," he offered gruffly by way of explanation.

Pushing the chair back from the desk, he jumped quickly to his feet and ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. Lilly decided that was either a nervous habit, or an effort to make himself look cooler. Oliver's hair flip worked the same way. He did it when he was nervous and when he was trying to impress someone, usually her and Miley.

"My name is Jonathan Lee, and I know you're supposed to call me Mr. Lee, but that's... odd, so you can just call me Lee. Everyone else does." He shrugged his shoulders as if this was no big deal. "I'm taking over for Miss Dawson for a few weeks. She had a family emergency. She left me some lesson plans, but to be honest, they're kind of crap."

A couple people snickered and Lilly turned to shoot Miley a look of disbelief. Miley just raised her eyebrows in response.

"She has you guys exploring the mystery genre before you leave for Spring Break, talking about all the popular types of characters, the useful conceits in the stories, but I have a better idea."

He paused, his eyes darting around the room, scanning for interest. His gaze lingered on Oliver, who was still leaning on Lilly's shoulder, and Oliver immediately sat back at his desk, not wanting to get in trouble in the first few minutes of a class period.

"I want you all to investigate your own mysteries. You are going to be in groups, you are going to pick a topic, and you are going to attack it like an investigative reporter would, giving a presentation on your findings when you get back from Spring Break."

There were several groans at that. No one wanted to spend their holidays working on a group presentation. That was the kind of thing that could ruin a vacation. It meant the procrastinators would spend the last weekend cramming in work and the people who actually liked to make an effort would enforce group meetings over the week away from school. Several hands shot in to the air.

Todd was selected first with a finger pointed in his direction. "What kind of mystery? Like, I totally would want to know why coconuts are round, but I don't think that's what you mean, dude."

"You're right. That's not what I mean." Lee narrowed his eyes at Todd. "What's your name?"

"Todd."

"Okay, Todd. Isn't there anything in your life that has never been explained, something that happened to you, but no one ever told you why?"

Todd furrowed his brow and said, "well, my parents split up a few years back, but my dad totally still goes on weekend visits to see my mom. He thinks I don't know."

Lilly started to giggle, but covered it with a quick cough. Sometimes, they didn't give Todd enough credit. He was pretty observant.

"So, you could investigate why your parents got a divorce in the first place." Lee nodded his head and a few of the hands went down.

"You really think that's a good idea?" The question came out of Lilly's mouth before she could stop it. She didn't think it was loud enough for anyone to hear her, but their substitute teacher's head swiveled back to her.

"What do you mean..." he searched for her name, but obviously didn't know it.

"Lilly," she told him, her cheeks pink. She hadn't meant to get everyone's attention. "I just meant that maybe Todd's parents wouldn't appreciate the entire class hearing about why they decided to get divorced."

"Point taken." Lee smiled at her. "You don't have to do a personal mystery. You could look at an unsolved burglary, a missing bicycle in your neighborhood, whatever you want. It just has to be something you need to discover new information about." He walked from one end of the desk to the other. "And I want interviews with real people. Interviewing is a good skill to have, no matter what career you go into. And detectives always know how to ask the right questions." Stopping again, he sat down on the top of what used to be Miss Dawson's desk. "Alright, get into groups of... let's see... four, and then I'll give you more instructions."

Lilly, Oliver, and Miley quickly arranged their desks so they could all face one another, but no one joined their group. Probably because there were only twenty-seven people in the class. Miley put a tentative hand in the air to point out this fact, but Lee said it was fine, the three of them would have to work a little bit harder.

He spent a few minutes explaining the parameters of the project to the class, then talked about the different articles on the board. They were all, according to him, great pieces of investigative journalism. One that sparked Oliver's interest involved the reporter tracking down a man with only an old black and white photo of him at a baseball game from a few decades earlier as her starting point. She hadn't even had his full name. He had apparently witnessed a murder, but the police had never been able to find him. She did.

"How'd she manage to do that?" Oliver asked loudly, without raising a hand.

"It's amazing what the internet can do for you. A few well aimed questions in the right message boards, and you can find out almost anything about anybody. Not without a lot of false starts though. It took her a year to break that story, and you all don't have that long." Deciding to forgo the slides he had brought, he instructed them to start thinking about topics instead. Each group had to turn in their idea by Wednesday.

"You know what we should do?" Miley whispered excitedly as the other groups began to loudly discuss possible mysteries to solve. "We should use Lola's list as our project. It's the perfect mystery. Figuring out who the people are."

"I don't know, Miles. I don't want to tell Lola's whole life story to our class." Lilly's hands twisted nervously on the surface of her desk and she stared down at the dulled wood. She was clearly uncomfortable with the idea, which should have been obvious based on her reaction to Todd, but Miley didn't notice.

"We don't have to tell them everything. Just pick one of the things on the list, and we do the research and talk about the process." Miley waited but Lilly didn't say anything. "It's not like we aren't going to be doing the work anyway, right?"

Sighing, Lilly responded, "I know, but, what if we find out stuff that Lola wouldn't want the whole world to know about?"

Miley rolled her eyes, intent on saying that nothing in the book could be that bad if the woman was asking her sixteen-year-old niece to read all of the entries, but she hadn't heard about Lola's tryst with her college professor yet either. Oliver decided to try to diffuse the situation.

"What if we asked Lola's permission to use her list?" he cut in. He turned his attention to Lilly who was still twisting her hands on the desk, but she looked more thoughtful now than nervous, chewing on her lip and turning in his direction.

"I guess that would be okay. I mean, she could tell us which one of the things left on the list would be okay to use, and we could just use entries relevant to it." She nodded her head, her hands relaxing. "And if she doesn't want us to use it, we just think of something else. I don't have to work tomorrow, so I can probably make it to see her before visiting hours are over at five."

"And she's definitely someone we could interview. I bet Lola would love the chance to be on camera," Miley added with a smile.

"Good. I'll find my video camera tonight then," Oliver said.

They spent the rest of the class period discussing Lola's list, and trying to make a plan to do some research into her past. When the bell rang, they headed out to the parking lot, and Oliver handed his car keys to Lilly.

"What're these for?"

"You can use the car to get to work, and I'll catch a ride with Miley to check out the taco place." He slung an arm around her shoulders while they walked, slightly behind Miley who was yelling into her cell phone to her brother, who apparently wasn't listening to anything she was saying to him.

"Oh, right." Lilly tried to ignore the sinking feeling she got in her stomach. She knew Miley and Oliver were friends, but they weren't close or anything. In fact, she couldn't remember a time they had hung out without her there between them. And even though Oliver had joked about asking Miley to go surfing the other day, Lilly knew they would never actually have gone surfing. Miley usually found Oliver kind of annoying, and Oliver tended to think Miley was a little too full of herself. She wasn't sure how the two of them were going to do alone in a car on a search for a taco stand that might not exist anymore. She was just going to hope that Miley didn't strand him on the side of the road anywhere. "You're going to send me updates while you look, right?"

"Yeah. I wouldn't leave you hanging, Lils." He pulled her closer.

"Good. Um, you need the address from the flier?"

"Nah. I remember it. And Miley's car's got GPS, so we shouldn't have too much trouble."

She nodded her head, fingering the ring of keys he had given her, still not comfortable with this. She couldn't put her finger on why. Was she afraid that if Oliver spent some time alone with Miley that he would start to like her better or something? They had already been through this when she thought he might have been in love with Miley, and Oliver had made it very clear that there would never be anything between him and their other best friend. He wasn't remotely interested in her. And the thought of Oliver as anything more than a friend had always grossed Miley out, so really, she had nothing to worry about.

Miley hung up her cell phone when she reached the door to her car and called over her shoulder. "You comin' or what, Oken?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," he yelled back, before leaning down to kiss Lilly. "I'll have Miley drop me off at the sub shop after, okay? We can study on your break, and I can drive you home." He raised his eyebrows, his expression hopeful.

"Deal."

Lilly watched them pull off before getting in Oliver's car, realizing she had forgotten to ask Oliver if he had any idea how much gas was left in the tank. Stupid gas gauge. (She decided to ignore the fact that because she used his dad's old car as much as he did that he was probably having to fill the tank more often anyway.) Just as she pulled her phone out to do that, a text message came through, letting her know that he got gas on the way to school, so she should be fine.

And that was why she loved him. They were always on the same page.

***


	5. Chapter 5

Forty-five minutes after leaving school, Lilly was putting her hair back into a sleek ponytail in the break room of the sub shop. She had made it to work early and had already finished her Spanish homework, a translation of some random article the teacher assigned, and started reading the Biology chapter. She had only received one text message from Oliver that said Miley wouldn't let him put on the radio station he wanted. She slipped her cell phone into the pocket of her pants and washed her hands before clocking in.

Straightening up her work space, she stood at the register for fifteen minutes before a customer even came in, and by then, she was really wishing that she had a job where she was allowed to have homework at the counter with her. At least then she would have something to do. She made the guy his tuna melt, slipped off her plastic gloves, and took his cash with a smile. He left her a dime as a tip. As soon as he was out the door, the gloves were in the recycling bin under the counter and she checked her phone for an update. Luckily, there was one.

_Found it! This place is awesome!_

Oliver never used exclamation points when he texted, so Lilly knew he must have been excited. A few seconds later the notice came through that Miley would be sending her pictures, and Lilly sighed. They were getting to have all of the fun. Of course, she had to put the phone away again because a group of teenage boys came in, looking as though they had just come from practice for some sort of sport, and they all ordered triple meat on everything. She had to restock everything after they left before she could check out the pictures on her phone. When the ham, turkey, roast beef, and chicken were all piled high in their plastic tubs, she slipped her phone back out, just under the surface of the counter.

The first picture that loaded on her phone's screen was of cement picnic tables similar to the ones they had in school courtyards. These looked to be in various states of decay though, seats cracked, edges crumbling. Paint and faded lines of marker marred the surfaces of a few, and one appeared to have a permanent orange stain, likely from some sort of spicy seasoning.

The next picture showed a huge plaster cactus wearing a sombrero that had obviously seen better days. There was a hole in the side of the sombrero, and the cactus leaned a little to the left, but it looked as though it had gotten a fresh coat of green paint recently. The plaster cactus, as it turned out, was actually in the front of a small building with walk up windows for people to order from. The third picture displayed this perfectly with a shot of the back of Oliver while he stood at the window. The final picture showed him biting into something that was wrapped in a flour tortilla, and he didn't look particularly happy to be having his photo taken.

Lilly smiled and hoped that whatever he got to eat didn't give him food poisoning. This place didn't look a few decades old, it looked a few centuries old. She didn't even want to think about what could be in that food. She doubted anyone at a roadside taco hut took as much care of their work space as she she did. She sent off a message to Oliver asking if the food was any good, and another to Miley asking if Oliver was getting sick yet.

But the replies would have to wait because the bell above the door sounded, and Lilly found herself waiting on what seemed like a never ending line of customers. Apparently, there was some sort of convention going on at a nearby hotel and half the guests were in the mood for sandwiches instead of the Italian food you could get at the other end of the block.

By the time Miley and Oliver walked through the front doors, she was exhausted, and ready for a break. The other girl who shared the second half of her shift with her was there, but she ran the register and filled soda cups while Lilly made all of the sandwiches during the rush. Miley waved to her, but Lilly held up a finger to let them know she was in the middle of something.

"Yeah," Lilly said to the red headed girl next to her. "If you can restock the tomatoes, pickles, carrots, spinach, pretty much all the vegetables, that would be great. I'm gonna take my break now, but I'll be right over there if you need me." She gestured to the table where Miley and Oliver had sat down and snagged herself a drink and the handful of broken cookies she had been eying. The couldn't sell the broken ones, and the employees could often spend a lot of time thinking up ways to "accidentally" break some of the cookies when they transferred them from the baking sheets to the plastic case by the register.

"So," Miley said as Lilly sat down with them, "the place was definitely still standing."

"Yeah, but there was a sign in the lot right next door that it's the future site of a Taco Bell, so it probably won't be there for long," Oliver chimed in, reaching over to Lilly's small cardboard container of cookie bits and popping one in his mouth. "We brought you dinner though."

"Really? Thanks. You guys are the best friends ever."

Miley produced a to-go container from her lap and placed it on the table. "I gotta go though. I promised Jackson I'd be home by now to help him out."

"Since when do you promise Jackson anything?" Lilly asked her, opening the top of the container.

"Since Jackson covered for her when she snuck out to a party last week," Oliver informed her.

"Ah, that makes sense."

Miley left with a wave, and Lilly tried to avoid the twisting in her stomach again as Oliver smiled and waved back at her. Why did Oliver know that Miley went to a party last week, but she didn't? And why was he waving at her like that?

It was no big deal. It wasn't like he was going to ignore Miley when she left to go home, even if Oliver rarely waved at anyone. And they had been hanging out for a couple of hours, so they had to talk about something. But when Oliver jumped up and ran after her, Lilly felt her heart thump in her chest. What was going on? Was her fear about them spending time alone together actually well founded?

Oliver walked back in a few seconds later though, panting, his back pack held over one shoulder. He tossed it on the floor under the table and tried to catch his breath. "Forgot my stuff," he said nonchalantly before sucking in another breath. He must have had to chase Miley's car across most of the parking lot.

Lilly laughed under her breath, feeling like an idiot, and dug into the tacos he had brought her. They were, to her surprise, really good. The chicken was perfectly seasoned, the tomatoes weren't overripe. Just perfect. It was kind of a shame that the little stand wasn't going to be there forever.

When she had to go back behind the counter, Oliver did some math homework, his eyes stealing glances at her every so often. When Lilly wiped down the tables after a large group of customers came through, Oliver quizzed her on biology vocabulary terms from the latest chapter of the text book. And when Lilly had to stay an extra twenty minutes because the person who was supposed to be working after her still wasn't there, he even started on her math homework for her.

As a result, the ride back to their neighborhood was spent with Lilly checking over the math problems he had done for her, making sure she at least kind of understood the work he had done on the page. This whole working thing was seriously cutting into what little homework time she had after all of the time she spent hanging out with Miley and Oliver. She might have to consider taking easier classes during her senior year.

"Hi, mom." Lilly barely spared Heather a glance as she walked into the kitchen where her brother was getting himself a glass of juice and her mother was touching up her lipstick.

"Oh, fantastic. I was hoping you wouldn't be staying too late at work. I'm meeting a few of the girls for drinks, remember?"

"Sure you are," Lilly muttered under her breath and grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge. But to her mother she just made a general mumbling of an affirmative.

"Why do you need- Oh, hello, Oliver."

Oliver had trailed behind Lilly, stopping in the doorway between the dining room and the kitchen with a bag from the sub shop in his hand.

"We're going to study for our history test," Lilly explained, knowing her mother would need a reason for Oliver to be there. She always did.

"I was just about to see what your brother wanted for dinner before I left," Heather called before Lilly could get back to the doorway, trying to stall for time.

"Yeah, I brought him a ham and cheese sub."

"Awesome," Mark said, almost spilling his juice in an effort to get to Oliver and the bag of food.

Oliver caught the look on Heather's face, a slight narrowing of eyes in his direction, a tightening of the muscles in her jaw, and he knew she wasn't happy. He had a feeling it wasn't about the food, but probably more about Lilly bringing someone home with her when she may have known her mother was going out. He sighed, rested a palm on one of Lilly's little brother's shoulders and muttered, "come on, we can eat in the dining room."

"Wait, don't we need plates?" Mark asked him.

"Uh..." Oliver glanced at the two women Mark had to share a house with and hurried him along. When they got going, they really went for it. "Nah. They come wrapped in paper. We'll use that for plates."

"Cool. Mom never lets us eat on paper. Even when she orders out, she pretends to cook and puts it all in the fancy dishes."

Oliver tried to push Mark along further as he said, "really? My dad does that sometimes too."

"Does mine have peppers on it?" Mark questioned.

"It has everything on it."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Awesome."

The door separating the two rooms swung shut behind them, probably because Oliver kicked the doorstop that was always in place out of the way, their voices dulled, and Lilly crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for whatever it was her mom was going to throw at her. She was fairly certain she knew what was coming.

"He needs to go home."

"We're just going to study, Mom."

"While you two are alone? I doubt it."

Lilly rolled her eyes and snapped, "Mark's here."

"Mark is a little boy, not an adult." Heather's glare intensified.

"_We are just going to study_," she hissed, taking a step closer to the door. "I would think you would be more worried about your night time activities than mine."

"Lillian Truscott!" Heather stepped in front of her, not allowing her to enter the dining room, and she fought to get her annoyance under control. She remembered that parenting book she had read recently explained that teenage girls often acted out when they felt as though their home lives were threatened. Knowing that Lilly had seen her late nights and her frequently changing dinner dates as a problem, Heather had tried to be understanding, but she didn't like Oliver being here when she wasn't. She settled for saying, "I want you two to stay downstairs while you study. No bedrooms. No closed doors," knowing that an attempt at forcing Oliver to go home at this point would be completely useless.

"You know, you never used to care whether or not Oliver was in my room." Lilly's voice was flat now and she wouldn't look her mother in the eye.

"You weren't dating him before."

"Just because two people are dating doesn't mean they're hopping into bed every chance they get."

"When the two people are sixteen and have very little self control, it usually does," her mother shot back.

And with that, Heather Truscott strode through the room, her heels clacking on the floor as she stopped to pick up her purse and her car keys, continuing right on out the front door without so much as a goodbye.

"What'd you do to make Mom mad?" Mark asked before taking a large bite of his sandwich.

"Nothing," Lilly answered with a sigh. She sat down, passing a bottle of water over to Oliver. Mark swallowed his food and opened his mouth to say something else, but Lilly cut him off with a "just eat your food."

A few hours later Mark was set up in his own room, working on his own homework before he went to bed, and Lilly, even though she thought it was ridiculous, was seated on the couch in the living room with Oliver, notes and textbooks around them, the television on, but the volume turned down low. Lilly gave a yawn after they went over the finer points of a treaty for the third time.

"I should probably get home soon," Oliver remarked, hearing her jaw crack.

"No, you don't have to go," Lilly said, starting to shove her maps and notes into a pile. "We can just take a break."

"You and Miley take a lot of breaks when you study." Oliver paused, not noticing how Lilly's eyes dropped when he said Miley's name. "Must be a girl thing."

"Yeah that's it," she agreed sarcastically with a roll of her eyes. Glancing over at the clock though, she changed her mind, "actually, it is getting pretty late, and my mom'll probably be home soon..." Her voice trailed off while she stared at the weather report that was flashing across the television screen. More sun and high temperatures. Summer was definitely on its way, and Spring was barely here.

Oliver followed her gaze to see tomorrow's forecast and told her, "looks like pretty decent beach weather tomorrow afternoon. Too bad I've got to work."

"Mmmm.... I'm gonna get Miley to drive out to see Lola, see what she thinks of the project idea."

"Good luck with that," Oliver muttered.

"What? You were the one who said we should ask Lola for permission." Lilly sat up straight, turning to face him.

"I mean being in the car with Miley for two hours," he deadpanned.

"Oliver!" She smacked him lightly on the arm, but she was smiling. She knew she didn't have anything to worry about. He still didn't like hanging out with Miley on his own.

"What?" He reached out grabbing her hand before she could smack him again. "She only listens to the top forty station and she spends all of her time at stop lights touching up her makeup and she talks about 'cute boys' all the time."

Lilly giggled. "I'm sure I can handle that."

He stood, stretching as he did, sliding all of his belongings into his bag. "Yeah, sometimes I forget your girly tendencies."

"I'm sorry, what?" She stood up as well, making sure to step right in front of him. "You forget I'm a girl?"

"That's not what I said."

"That's what it sounded like."

He closed the distance between them, not taking her raised eyebrows or pursed lips seriously and whispered, "I could _never _forget about you being a girl, Lils."

"Really?" She was trying very hard not to laugh now, but she wasn't succeeding.

"Oh, yeah."

She gave a small sigh at his words, feeling her heart beat speed up. Her mother had said no bedrooms and no closed doors. She hadn't said anything about the brightly lit living room or what kinds of activities they actually weren't supposed to engage in. Sure, things had been implied in her anger, but there was nothing specific. Because of this reasoning, Lilly didn't stop him when he leaned down to kiss her. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and tried to move closer to him. His hands found their way to the small of her back, his fingertips edging their way underneath the material of her shirt, and she forgot about what time it was. Time just stopped. Until she was bracing her knee on the couch, trying to pull Oliver back down with her, and her mother's voice screeched from behind her.

"What the hell are you doing? This doesn't look like history studying to me!"

"I was just about to go home," Oliver explained, his skin red to the tips of his toes as he extricated himself from Lilly's grasp. If he thought he was afraid of Heather Truscott before, it was nothing compared to this moment right now. She looked even more frightening than his mother when she used her man voice.

Lilly sighed and turned around to face the entry way when her mother said, "that's probably a smart move. In fact, you probably won't be allowed back over here for a very long time."

"Mom, he really was about to leave."

It was better to gloss over the fact that she hadn't wanted him to leave or that she had been the one to distract him from actually taking his things and walking out the front door.

"Out. Now." Heather pointed to the door behind her, her eyes still on Oliver.

Lilly crossed her arms and set her jaw when she saw that her mother wasn't alone. Oliver must have noticed the same thing because he hesitated in picking up his backpack from the floor. It wasn't that he didn't want to leave this incredibly awkward and tension filled living room, but he didn't want to abandon Lilly either. Not now.

"So, it's okay for you to have someone over in the middle of the night, but not me."

"I'm an adult, Lilly."

"With two children, Mom."

Lilly rounded on the guy who was edging his way out the door. As far as Lilly was concerned, this was the last straw. Her mother had never, as far as she knew, brought anyone home before. That was the unspoken rule that followed her dating routine. Once the sun went down, her dating had to go on outside the house. No one spent the night. Not ever.

"Yeah," Oliver mumbled. "I'm just gonna-"

"Did she tell you she has two kids?" Lilly demanded of the man in the doorway. A man she had never met. It wasn't even someone her mom had been seeing for a while. "Or was she going to spring that on you when she made you get out of bed at three in the morning?"

Heather gave an outraged gasp and Oliver put a tentative hand on Lilly's arm. "Lils, calm down," he whispered, "before your mom blows a gasket." But Lilly simply shook him off and the nameless date scurried down the driveway to his car. Oliver sighed and ran his hand over his face before saying, "I'm really sorry Mrs. Truscott. I wasn't trying to-"

"I know," she cut him off with a wave of her hand, "but you need to go."

He nodded, told Lilly he'd see her at school, and made his way home. Heather closed and locked the front door behind him.

"He wasn't going to stay the night," Heather told her daughter softly, trying hard to keep her voice under control. "We were going to have a cup of coffee. He works in my department."

"Right," Lilly said thinly while she shoved items into her backpack, making as much noise as possible. She pivoted on her heels and headed for the staircase.

"When did I become someone you hate?" Heather asked.

"I don't hate you," Lilly snapped back. "I'm just disappointed in you."

"That goes both ways." Heather stared at her back and added, "you're grounded. No dates, no hanging out with your friends, no Hannah parties, nothing. You go to school. You go to work. And then you come home." She paused, but Lilly didn't turn around. "For two weeks."

"Mom, that's all of Spring Break," Lilly protested with a whine, realizing she may have pushed things a little too far.

"Too bad."

"But I have a group project due the day we go back to school." She finally turned around, her eyes pleading with her mother, knowing school work could get her out of trouble.

"Fine. You can do group work for your project. But that is the only exception." Her mother pointed a threatening finger at her, her lips in a tight frown.

Lilly nodded in resignation and ran up the stairs.

She explained the entire situation to Miley on the way to school in the morning.

"So, wait, you guys were just kissing and she grounded you for two weeks? That seems a little harsh." Miley was already pulling into the parking lot at school by the time Lilly finished her rant, and she could completely sympathize with her best friend's repeated use of the words "this is so not fair."

"We-ell..." Lilly hesitated, her fingers on the door handle in case she needed a quick getaway. "His hand may have been half way up the back of my shirt... and I may have been trying to get him back onto the couch," she said as Miley cut the engine and she bolted from the car.

"Okay, now I see why she was so upset," Miley called after her, not quite as fast to jump out of the car. She caught up quickly and said, "but two weeks still seems a tad harsh, even for your mom. And all of Spring Break?"

"I know." Lilly frowned while they walked, afraid they were going to be late for their first class. "It's just... we argue all the time now. I never should have talked her into going out with your dad freshman year. Things just kind of... snowballed from there and she's driving me crazy. I don't know what to do."

"Too bad you're grounded. Time away from my family, like for Hannah things, you know, it always makes me love them more. I would say you could spend the break at my house, but I don't really see your mom agreeing to that now."

"Probably not."

Compared to the night before, the school day was relatively uneventful. Lilly was on her best behavior; paying attention, taking notes, finishing the homework she hadn't gotten to the night before, she and Oliver barely even held hands between classes as though they were concerned her mother would be walking down the hall. She kept her mind firmly on academics until her study hall, where she used a computer in the school library to do an internet search of Lola Truscott. Lola had said she had a few screen credits as a background dancer in some of the old musicals. Maybe there was information about her past somewhere in cyberspace. It was worth a shot.

Computer keys clacked around her. Pages turned. Highlighters swept across pages. There was even the sound of muffled music coming from the ear buds of someone's mp3 player. It wasn't as quiet as usual, and Lilly was relieved. When it was too quiet, she found the library a little creepy. Maybe she had seen too many horror movies, but she always expected some sort of masked murderer to come rounding one of the back bookcases when the room was at its quietest, and she couldn't concentrate on researching her father's aunt while keeping on the lookout for possible serial killers. She wasn't _that_ good at multitasking.

To her surprise, someone out there had put together a highlight real of Lola's dance numbers on a video sharing sight, although apparently Lola was LA Truscott in Hollywood. She emailed the link to Miley and sent a message to the account that had posted the video, wondering how they had become interested in Lola. She kept the volume muted so she didn't disturb anyone around her. On the computer screen, there was a montage of black and white Lola, her hair in a complicated up do, tapping her way across a raised stage with another group of girls. Then, there was Lola in a cardboard city in full technicolor with sequins on her skirt and feathers in her hair, kicking her leg up high and smiling wide. And Lilly hated to admit it, but she could see why Lola didn't make it in Hollywood. She was good, but she wasn't good enough to stand up there all on her own. She sparkled, but she didn't sap the spotlight, not in the world that loved Greta Garbo, Bette Davis, Ginger Rogers, and Cyd Charisse.

After watching the less than five minutes of footage, Lilly went back to her search. And there was a photograph of Lola. A black and white photograph of Lola with a smile on her face, her hair disheveled, holding her booking number for a police photograph out of Mississippi. When had Lola ever been to Mississippi? Apparently she was charged with creating a public disturbance in 1964, just a few years after she bailed on her chance at "real" stardom. What on earth had she been doing back in the eastern half of the country? Lilly printed the photo and grabbed the journal out of her bag. She was going to have to find something in the journal. There was no telling what Lola's story would be there.

She only had time to read two stories before her next class though, and neither of them featured Mississippi or the names she was interested in.

_Late Autumn, 1948_

_The first time I seriously ran away from home was just after my eighteenth birthday. And I didn't really run very far. We lived in northern California, I just ran to Hollywood._

_I wanted to be a dancer, I wanted to be in pictures. I know I've said that before, but that's the whole reason I ran. My big sister had just gotten engaged and everybody was very focused on the wedding, including the one person in my family who actually believed I could be in films, my little brother. I was supposed to be a bridesmaid, and he was going to be one of the groomsman. The wedding wasn't until the spring of the next year, and things just got so tense._

_I decided it was time to go, to try to make it on my own. I only lasted until Christmas._

_I took a bus with all the money I had hidden under my mattress and a suitcase full of my best clothes and makeup. I got a cheap, furnished apartment, not without a lot of trouble though, let me tell you. But my money would be gone pretty soon. I went on audition after audition after audition, but they were all for small parts. You couldn't get anywhere if you didn't have an agent, or someone else on the inside. I got cast as an extra a couple times, made about ten dollars. There was one casting director who said he liked me for a part, but he kept calling me back into his office, leading me on, until I refused to sleep with him. I finally had to break down and look for a real job. That's when I started waitressing. _

_And I was really good at it. I was quick on my feet, had a good memory, was always outgoing. But the tips weren't enough to pay the bills. I had to concede defeat and go back home._

_It was one of the most intense moments of shame I've ever experienced, walking back through the front doors of my parents' house with what little I had in the world, admitting that I hadn't been made into a star._

_If I could go back and do it over again, I would have started waitressing at home a lot sooner. I would have saved harder. I would have been more prepared. When I went back to Hollywood a few years later, I thought I would be better prepared then, but I still wasn't, and the second time I ran was an even worse mistake, but we'll get to that later._

_Spring, 1949_

_Remember how I said my sister was getting married? Her wedding was the site of another mistake. More specifically, her wedding reception. _

_I hated being a bridesmaid. Hated it. I had to wear a dress I hated, ugly shoes, and everything at the reception was going to be pink and white. But, I loved my sister more than just about anything. She had stuck up for me time and time again, even though she and I were almost complete opposites, so I was bound and determined to be on my best behavior. Really, I was._

_Chip was the best man, a friend of my new brother-in-law's from school. I think they may have even worked together for a while. Chip had this mop of brown curls on his head and dark green eyes. He looked like he should have been a model or something. So handsome. And during the rehearsal dinner, even though I wasn't the maid of honor, he spent a lot of the time chatting me up, sitting by me instead of at his designated spot with the older girl._

_Well, I was in seventh heaven, wasn't I? An older, very charming, and very attractive young man was paying me more attention than anyone else had since I came home, and he wasn't yelling at me while he did. He thought my going out to Hollywood was admirable. He thought I really could be a star. At least, that's what he told me while his eyes were shining and his cheeks were dimpled and his hand was on my knee under the table._

_After the wedding was over the next day and he had made his speech, and everyone was having a good time, he asked me to dance. He was a horrible dancer, which should have been my first clue that this wasn't going to end well. No one I had ever been attracted to had been a bad dancer. I usually had an instinct about dancing. The second thing I should have paid attention to was the way he was knocking back glasses of champagne. I had only had a couple, and he had probably downed about a dozen._

_Well, Chip, charmer that he was, somehow managed to weasel an entire bottle of whiskey from the bartender and he and I went to one of the back rooms to play cards. Chip taught me how to play my first hand of poker. I took to poker right away, you know. I've always been quick to spot patterns and liars, and I've always been a pretty good liar myself. I've been told that I don't even have a tell. Everyone has a tell. You just have to know where to find it. I love all the different versions of poker now, but for a long time after that day, I didn't._

_Since neither of us had anything to bet with at the time, if one of us lost a hand, that person took a swig from the whiskey bottle. I had never had more than a glass of wine at fancy parties, or a glass of champagne at a wedding, before in my life. Not even when I ran away. Drinking just didn't appeal to me the way it did some other people. Chip couldn't hold his liquor very well either once the whiskey mixed with the champagne. And, well, we ended up not just playing poker in that back room._

_I don't remember a whole lot of the rest of that day, but I do remember Chip telling me how beautiful I was with my hair down and how amazing I was, and I remember my little brother being the one to find us together. I'm still surprised at how red with embarrassment he turned. He and I never said anything about it again, but Chip kept coming by the house for the next month, trying to get me to see a movie or go to dinner. In the words of my mother, who didn't know everything that had already happened, the boy was completely smitten._

_I wasn't. What happened was stupid, something that made me feel so wanted at the time, but in the end, Chip was just Chip. I didn't want anything to do with him. I just wanted him to leave me alone._

_And no, nothing about Chip actually made it on to my list. How could it? I can't actually go back in time and stop myself from having sex with Chip. It wasn't like it was my first time or anything, it's not like I wanted to save myself for someone. I had already been with the someone I thought I was in love with, but Chip made me feel so good at the time, and, as awful as it is to say, Chip was a self-esteem boost at a time in my life when I thought I could never be important. I just wish I hadn't let it happen the way it did. Maybe then I wouldn't have felt so... cheap right after._

Lilly swallowed as she finished reading about Chip and Lola's rendezvous at her sister's wedding reception. She'd always thought of Lola as simply her father's aunt. Lola was an old woman, maybe a bit on the eccentric side, with an incurable illness. She was a woman who liked to tell stories and liked to have fun. Lilly had never truly thought about her as having all this history before though. She had been a regular teenage girl with a dream once. She had felt insecure, she had done stupid things, and she had been in love.

Lilly had read seven of Lola's entries now though, and none of them mentioned what she was looking for. She was beginning to wonder if Lola had ever even recorded the events for the items left on her list. Maybe that's why they weren't done yet. Maybe she didn't remember to wrote those stories down. Well, that would make this whole thing a little bit more difficult, wouldn't it?

She started as the bell for the next class rang and hurried to put everything away. She and Miley were definitely paying Lola a visit that afternoon. Grounded or not.


	6. Chapter 6

"Are you sure this is alright?" Miley asked from the driver's seat of her car. "You're grounded, remember?" She curled her fingers around her pink steering wheel cover.

"Yes, but I'm allowed to go to school, to work, and to meetings for our group project," Lilly countered with a smile.

"Ah, so going to see Lola would be a meeting for the project?"

"Well, yeah. We have to turn in a topic tomorrow, so we've got to find out what we're doing." Lilly turned in her seat, reaching into the floor behind her to grab her backpack, rifling around and locating Lola's journal.

"You've been reading without us, haven't you?" Miley teased, her foot pushing down harder on the gas pedal. If it had been her, she would have read the entire book straight through as soon as she got the chance. She didn't understand why Lilly was taking so long to read it.

Lilly laughed and agreed. "Trust me, it's better that I've been reading without you. I haven't read anything so far that's from what's left on Lola's list. But there were a few interesting stories."

"Like what?"

"Well," she thought for a second, her eyes looking out the windshield and her back straight in her seat now. This wasn't like the drive with Oliver. Miley would never let her put her feet in the seats or eat in the car, so she felt like pointless conversations or road trip games just wouldn't work here. Instead, she recounted the stories she had read on her own, told Miley about the video link she had sent her, and the two of them speculated about Lola's time in Mississippi.

"When did you say she got arrested? 1964?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe she participated in a sit-in or something. Desegregation was going on then." Miley shrugged, turning the car onto the road that housed the assisted living facility.

"Hmm... could be. But I still wonder why she was even in Mississippi. There's no family there or anything. And she's never talked about it."

"Apparently, she's never talked about a lot of things... like the professor and the janitor's closet." Miley giggled after she said the words and pulled up to the guard at the gate, having Lilly sign the two of them in just like Oliver did a few days earlier. "Oliver wasn't kidding. This place is amazing. I wanna live here."

"I know. It's gorgeous," Lilly agreed, her gaze sweeping across the buildings and the residents milling around. A couple of women were on the shuffleboard court, and there was a man with a walker yelling at a little boy who was probably his grandson while they walked with a small group of people down the sidewalk between two of the buildings. The little boy just laughed and skipped on ahead.

"Is this good?" Miley questioned, pulling the car into a parking space away from all of the other vehicles in the lot.

Lilly rolled her eyes. "Yes, this is fine." Miley was way too protective of her car's appearance.

They got out of the car and began walking toward Lola's room, and Miley brought their earlier conversation back up. "Okay, so maybe, Lola was in Mississippi on a secret mission from the government or something. She's an actress, and you said she knows how to bluff. Maybe they trained her to be a spy or something."

"In Mississippi?" Lilly frowned and looked at her best friend out of the corner of her eye. She had her car keys in one hand and Oliver's camera in the other. "Oliver told you about that spy movie he saw the other day, didn't he?"

"Maybe..." Miley trailed off, knowing that the speculation was ridiculous, but still wanting to pursue it. "But, really, if this were a movie, it would make perfect sense. Lola's lived all over the place, she's waitressed at some high end clubs-"

"In Hollywood, not in hostile countries," Lilly cut in with a laugh.

"And," Miley continued, acting as though she hadn't heard, "apparently, she was a total fox when she was younger. She could have been a complete femme fatale."

"Lola was not a spy, that's ridiculous."

They stopped in front of the bright orange door that led to Lola's place of residence, and Lilly knocked swiftly on the wooden panel. It wasn't Lola who opened the door for them a few seconds later though, it was a nurse wearing turquoise scrubs that had little fish sprinkled across the material in every color of the rainbow.

"Genie?" Lilly asked incredulously. In the few visits she had made to the center, no one had ever opened Lola's door but Lola. Sometimes Lilly forgot there were even nurses around looking after the residents, or that most of the residents were actually patients.

"Lilly! Was Lola supposed to be expecting you today?" Genie's dark hair was pulled back into a French braid and her eyes clouded over with worry. She clutched the quilt in her hands more tightly.

"Oh, no, no. We just wanted to stop by and talk to her for a school project. Um," Lilly hesitated a moment before gesturing to Miley, "this is my friend Miley. I guess we should have called first. I just thought it was still visiting hours."

"It is, it's just that Lola is at her art class right now. I came back to grab her quilt for her because she said she kept getting chills." Genie walked through the opening, shutting the door with a soft click behind her.

"There are art classes here?" That came from Miley as she followed the two of them toward the main building.

"Mmm hmm. We have all kinds of activities for the residents to participate in if they want to. We like to keep their minds active, you know. Lola joined the new art class just last week. They're just working on pencil sketches right now. Should be starting charcoal drawings next week, and I think water colors after that."

Even after Genie's words, Lilly was surprised to find Lola in one of the large rooms at the back of the main building, seated in a comfy looking chair, an easel in front of her and a pencil in her hand. She held her tongue between her teeth in concentration as she deftly sketched the vase of flowers in the middle of the room. Her petals were perfectly proportioned, her vase had just the right shading, and she had even begun to sketch out the cloth draped over the small ladder the vase was standing on. It was amazing how good the drawing was. Outside of the orange blossoms on the first entry of the journal, Lilly had never seen her aunt actually draw anything before. She had also never known Lola to join any of the classes the center offered. Sure, she participated in movie watching nights with some of the people she knew and she liked to do puzzles with a few of the other residents, but for the most part, Lola liked to be able to keep her own schedule. Lilly wasn't sure whether to be surprised by her talent or by her joining in.

"I should warn you," Genie whispered as they walked closer to her, "she's been having some trouble with names and faces today. She woke up this morning thinking this was only her first month here." She gave Lilly a pointed look at that.

"Right," Lilly whispered back. "Thanks." She let Genie approach Lola first, only having visited once when Lola didn't recognize her, and that was mainly because she had been on experimental medication that had actually made her memory loss worse. Lola hadn't been losing as much of her memory as rapidly as some of the other residents with her same problem. She had been really lucky, so far. Lilly hoped she hadn't changed too much since Lola first began staying at the center, and hoped introducing her to Miley wouldn't be a problem.

"Lola," Genie said gently while wrapping the quilt around the older woman's shoulder's, "someone's here to see you."

"Who is it?" Lola asked without turning from her sketch. She tilted her head slightly to the left and began working on fraying the edge of the piece of fabric on the paper just a bit.

"It's me." Lilly walked to her side. "And I brought a friend with me."

"Oh, Lilly, darling, it's so good to see you! I haven't talked to you in ages!" Lola placed her pencil over her ear and threw her arms open to embrace Lilly.

"Yeah..." She trailed off, one of her arms encircling the smaller woman as well, holding the leather bound journal she brought with her down behind a hip. "I brought a friend with me who wanted to meet you. I've told her some of your stories." Her father had told her before that it was always a good idea not to point out that Lola was wrong. It would just confuse her, and then she would be upset.

"Oh, how terrific!" Lola let go and clapped her hands together like a little girl. "Just give me five minutes to finish my sketch."

Miley and Lilly waited behind her, watching her move the pencil across the paper in quick, smooth strokes.

"She's really good," Miley commented.

"I know," Lilly said, her voice hushed. "I never knew she could draw like that."

"It helps her to have something to do with her hands," Genie remarked, standing next to them again and surveying the room. "For a while she was keeping a journal everyday, and you know, she makes her lists, but I think her getting back into art will be even better for her." Genie had a smile on her face as she continued, "do you want to see some of her other sketches?"

Lilly and Miley both nodded and Genie led them over to a cabinet in the back of the room. Inside, there were plastic boxes labeled with a piece of tape and a resident's name. She pulled the one with Lola Truscott on it in block letters forward and thumbed through the first division to show them a picture of a bowl of fruit. Lilly and Miley made the appropriately appreciative noises and Genie moved on. There was a sketch of the swimming pool, complete with Charles Carmichael doing laps, one of Lola's fish tank, one of Annabel playing the piano that had only recently been started, and another of a half finished man's face that Lilly didn't recognize.

"That's a lot of sketches for the class only starting last week," Miley said, peering at the sketch of the man Genie had ended with.

"Lola did a lot of these on her own time. She likes to sit at the windows in the rec room and read or sketch. You know, she doesn't usually participate in a lot of the activities here. I was a little worried when she first moved in that she wouldn't adjust well, but she's made a lot of friends. Of course, that's probably all of her card playing that did that for her."

Lilly nodded her head absentmindedly and gestured to the picture. "Who is he? I don't recognize him."

Genie shrugged. "She just labeled the picture Max." She pointed to the curly script at the bottom of the right corner on the paper.

"Max," Lilly and Miley whispered in unison, eyes wide.

_Find Max. _

"Well, at least now we kind of know what he looks like," Miley joked under her breath.

The man on the paper had a high, proud forehead, sharp cheekbones, and wide eyes. There were smudges on his nose and chin, like Lola wasn't sure about how much of a curve there should be, how sharp the angles should be. His lips were thin, his smile crooked, and there was a line at the left corner of his mouth, probably meant to depict a scar.

"Do you mind if I-" Lilly showed Genie the camera on her phone and Genie nodded. She snapped the picture, wanting it just in case she needed it. That reporter had managed to track someone down with just a photograph; maybe she could do the same with Lola's drawing.

"Alright, now what kind of trouble are we getting into?" Lola asked cheerfully, having pulled her sketch from her easel and hobbled over to the cabinet to slide it into the next division in her box.

"No trouble this time," Lilly told her with a wink. "This is my friend Miley," she nodded her head at the brunette, "and we have a project we're doing for school that we could use your help on."

"Well then, let's go grab a table outside. It's so nice out." Lola's eyes lingered on her box of sketches before she grabbed her cane from her seat, leaving her quilt with Genie, and led the two girls out to the courtyard near the rarely used tennis courts. Lola eased herself down to the chair at the head of the table and waited for the two girls to say something, but neither of them did. "Your name is Miley? That's very unusual."

"Yes ma'am. I get that a lot." Miley set her car keys and Oliver's video camera on to the surface of the table, seeing Lola arch an eyebrow.

"I like it. It's got character. It's one of a kind. Who knows? You could be responsible for a whole generation of babies with the same name one day." She crossed her arms on the table and gave a smile. "A lot of my friends named their daughters after me when they started having kids. Thought they would be giving their girls a feisty name." Lola sighed. "I wasn't always feisty, but I did have my moments."

"Everybody has their moments," Miley agreed with a grin. "Like Lilly over here."

Lola grinned as well. "I know. When she was a little girl, she used to get into all kinds of trouble. Her father was always telling me about her. Reminded me a lot of myself."

Lilly's face flushed at the comparison considering what she had read about Lola's past over the last few days. Lola had led quite the life.

"So, what's the project you need help with? History? Want a first hand account of war protests in the sixties?"

"Ooh," Miley's eyes lit up, but she shot a glance at Lilly and said, "maybe another time."

"We actually have this English project," Lilly explained. "We have to solve a mystery, and I was thinking..." She produced Lola's journal from her lap and set it on the table. "I was wondering if it would be okay if-"

But Lola cut her off, her eyes wide with surprise. "Where did you get that?"

"Um," Lilly realized that Lola still believed it was right after she had moved in. She didn't remember meeting Oliver over the weekend or telling Lilly about her list. Lilly thought, trying to remember what had gone on right before Lola had moved into the center. Lola had been in the hospital for a while right before, hadn't she? That's how they found out there was something wrong with her memory. "You gave it to me when you were sick."

"I did? Huh." Lola looked perturbed at that, reaching forward, touching the leather of the cover. "Someone very special gave me that journal. He wanted to be a writer, and he thought I could do illustrations for him, but I wanted so badly to be a dancer instead, so I just held on to it." Lifting the book to her face, she took a deep breath. "It still smells a little bit like his cigarettes. Such a smelly habit, but I always think of him when the scent hits me now." She sighed, setting the book back down. "Do you write in it?" She asked Lilly, not opening it to find out for herself.

"Oh, um, well, I," Lilly stammered, not sure what to say. She didn't want to upset Lola, or confuse her. "I'm not a very good writer," she finished lamely, avoiding actually answering the question.

Lola nodded her head.

"Yes, you are," Miley defended her, "you always get better grades on your papers than I do."

Lilly waved her off and Lola narrowed her eyes. "What is it you need me to do?"

"We have to investigate a mystery, and I was wondering if we could ask you a few questions for ours." Lilly swallowed, knowing this was going to be difficult to explain.

"What's the mystery?" Lola's eyes were still narrowed, but she was also still smiling.

Lilly and Miley looked at one another, and Lilly opened and closed her mother as though she didn't know what to say. Miley decided to take over, remembering exactly what Lilly had said to her when she told her about Lola's request to finish her list.

"Here's the thing," she explained, "we were thinking that instead of doing a traditional mystery, maybe we could help you with something instead." She saw the blank look on Lola's face and tried to get specific without completely unnerving Lola. "Miss Truscott, Lola, can I call you Lola? Okay, Lola, have you ever wished you could go back in time and change something about your past?"

Lola nodded hesitantly and Lilly briefly closed her eyes.

"Well, we thought, maybe you could give us an idea, maybe someone we could find for you, give them a message or something... kind of like a missing person's investigation." Miley looked at Lilly, a question in her eyes, and Lilly tucked her chin down once, a half nod, letting Miley know she approved of the way Miley asked. There wasn't much else they could do.

"I have been thinking about my life a lot lately," Lola told them, the smile gone now, a wistful expression on her face. "I've always wondered what would have happened if I had done a few things differently."

"Like what?" Miley pressed.

Lilly simply sat there, her muscles rigid. She wanted Lola to be lucid today. Why did her brain have to go backwards today of all days?

Lola softened, her hands twisting in front of her, just like Lilly when she was uncomfortable. "Well, I- do you really want to make your project about me?"

"We do, if that's okay with you," Lilly responded, swallowing nervously.

"I think I'd like that. No one's ever done a report on me before." Lola chuckled and tried to still her hands, but they were trembling now. And that's when she told them about Max.

"_Max was the first boy I ever really loved, you know. He was so much fun. He lived right down the street from me, we went all through school together. The first time he asked me to marry him, we were only sixteen, and he said it as a joke. We were watching a baseball game, and I caught a foul ball with my bare hands. He thought that was the greatest thing ever, and joked about it for the whole rest of the game. He said we could get married and have our own baseball team. I told him we could just become rich and famous and buy one. It was a couple of years before we ever brought it up again._

_He always came to my dance recitals, sat right in the front row with my mother, even though he was terrified of her. She didn't like that I would spend so much time outside with him instead of inside with other girls. But Max put up with just about anything she threw at him, stayed my friend through everything. I skipped a lot of my dance classes to go hiking with him. He and my brother got along well too, and he even let him tag along. He was the perfect guy to have around. Always willing to listen, could make me laugh, but he was stubborn as all get out._

_Our last year of school, Max got it into his head that he wanted to be a famous writer. He started writing short stories, trying out poems. At least, I thought he had just started. Turned out he had been writing a while. He let me read a few right before graduation. And they were great. Nothing earth shattering. He wrote love stories. Always love stories. And the main characters always knew one another so well, had intense friendships. I noticed a pattern. I was his main character. _

_When he left to go to college, I didn't know what to say. I had always loved him, as long as I could remember, but I never thought he felt the same way. I was afraid of how to act around him. He asked me what I was going to do without him, and I told him I wanted to be a dancer, that I wanted to make something of my life. I wanted to be remembered, like he would be with his stories. I knew he would be remembered. He told me he would let me illustrate his stories. That we would be the best team ever, but I didn't want to be an artist, so I said no. He gave me that leather bound journal as his going away present. I- well, that doesn't matter. I didn't see him again until he came back from school two years later._

_He asked me to marry him for real that time. No joking around about it. And I had missed him so much that I said yes without even stopping to think about it. But my mother, she had never liked him, and we argued about it when I told her. She said we couldn't both live on pipe dreams. She didn't believe he would ever make it as a writer, and she said I wasn't serious enough to make it as a dancer. She called me a silly little girl. I decided to show her how serious I was. I left again for Hollywood, sure I could work hard enough to make it. I had run away two years earlier, but it hadn't worked out. I was so sure it would work this time. Not only did I clean out everything from under my mattress, just like the last time, but I sold all my jewelry, except for the ring Max gave me and a pearl necklace my grandmother had given me when I turned sixteen so I would have enough money to last a while._

_But I didn't tell Max when I left. I couldn't track him down to tell him the day I decided, and then, I thought that I shouldn't. That I should go out and prove myself first. I thought that would be better. Then, my mother couldn't accuse me of doing this all because of a boy. I wrote him a long letter on my bus ride, complete with lots of sketches of the scenery I saw on the ride there. I explained about having to get out from my mother's thumb, about this not meaning that I didn't want to marry him, about it being okay for us to wait. I didn't have his new address at school, so I didn't want to send it there. Instead, as soon as I found myself an apartment, the day I got there, I sent the letter off to his home address._

_Well, it had only been two days since he had asked me when I sent the letter. Maybe another day or two for it to get there. His mother sent it back, letting me know that Max wasn't there, that he had accepted a scholarship at a school on the east coast, and I wasn't to try contacting him again. Apparently, I had broken his heart without ever meaning to. I hadn't stopped to explain myself before I ran. I didn't have the patience to wait. I never had a whole lot of patience though. I always wanted to move on to the next thing, didn't like waiting around for something to happen. And he was too stubborn to allow me the chance to do explain after. I tried to get in contact with him again, once I knew he must have graduated, but he wasn't back at home. He just seemed to disappear off the face of the planet, no explanation at all._

_I never saw him again."_

"Not ever?" Lilly asked, tears in her eyes. She hadn't even noticed that Miley had turned on the camera and started recording when Lola began telling her story.

With a sigh, Lola explained, "No, he never came back, and his parents didn't stay in town much longer after he went away to school. I never found out where he ended up. I'm sure he's a famous novelist or something though. Probably writes under a fake name." She gave a half smile. "But I so wish I could just explain it all to him, so he'd know I never meant to hurt him. There were so many times where I was just walking down the street and someone I passed would look exactly like him for an instant, but none of those men were ever Max."

"What's his last name?" Miley asked, not wanting to ruin the story, but as Oliver had reminded them, they needed all the facts they could get.

"Shale. His last name's Shale."

"That must have been hard. To be cut off from one of your oldest friends, just like that," Lilly whispered, her thoughts swirling around the few times in her life she and Oliver hadn't been on speaking terms. She couldn't imagine him just vanishing from her life completely.

"It was... at first. But I focused on work, on meeting new people. I led a very exciting life for a while. I tried to forget." Lola's eyes began to cloud, her mind drifting away and Genie walked out from the main building to let them know that visiting hours were over, and that it was just about time for dinner.

"Right, of course," Lilly agreed, clearing her throat and jumping to her feet. Miley snapped the lens cover on the camera and followed her example.

Lola gave them each a small hug and the girls headed out toward the parking lot while Genie led Lola back into the main building.

"Hang on," Lilly hissed, grabbing Miley's arm and dragging her to Lola's rooms instead of going straight to the car.

"What are we doing?"

"Lola has a couple of scrap books from when she was younger. It was this big project she did with my grandparents a while back. They put their whole family's photographs into books. I want to see if she's got anything in them that will help us." She pushed the door open, poking her head inside and making sure none of the housekeeping staff was there. She didn't want to get in trouble.

Miley followed her inside the room and glanced around. She hadn't had the chance to come inside yet like Oliver. "Are all the lists so she has reminders?"

"Yeah. It makes it a little easier for her, I think." Lilly marched right over to a bookshelf that was lined, not with novels, but with records, a set of encyclopedias, and a bunch of photo albums. "Here," she told Miley, grabbing a faded red album from the shelf and handing it to her. "Flip through that one, look for anything we can use. I'll look through the next one. Make sure to keep them in order though."

"Got it." Miley set the camera and her keys down and began to turn the pages. She was half way through the first one, full of both black and white photos and sepia toned pictures that almost looked like paintings, when she heard steps outside on the sidewalk. "Lilly, she has tons of albums and books. How are we going to be able to find anything? She'll be back from dinner, and we'll get in trouble for being here after visiting hours."

"I know." Lilly groaned, biting down on her lip and sliding the album she had in her hands back on the shelf. She grabbed the next one, the cover a much darker shade of red. She opened it to the first page and saw a picture of the teenaged Truscott siblings at what looked like a backyard party. It was black and white, just like most of the photos in the the other album, but Lilly recognized one of the faces in the background. It had the same high forehead and sharp cheekbones as the sketch Lola had been working on. "We'll take this one, and the one after it with us. I'll leave Lola a note." She fumbled around on a low lying table, locating a tablet of sticky notes and jotting a quick message to Lola.

_Aunt Lola,_

_Sorry to do this without asking, but I wanted to scan some of your pictures into my computer, so I'm borrowing a couple of your albums. I'll bring them back on the next visit._

_Love,_

_Lilly_

"Okay, good, let's get out of here before they have us arrested for trespassing or something," Miley hissed, unceremoniously shoving Lilly toward the door.

They waited until they were sure the coast was clear, then sprinted for the car. Because that didn't look suspicious at all. And though Lilly flipped through some of the pages of the books in the car ride, listening to Miley chatter on about how sad Lola's story about Max was, she didn't get to do any in depth analysis, comparing the people in the photos to the people in Lola's journal, until she got home.

She and Miley made themselves a work space on the floor of her room, and Miley went next door to see if Oliver was home from work yet. With the Okens knowing that Lilly was supposed to be grounded, she couldn't go over and retrieve her boyfriend herself. Miley returned, Oliver in tow, just as Lilly found a picture of a young Lola standing below a canopy of orange trees with another girl.

"That must be Alice," Oliver remarked, taking a seat on the carpet next to her.

Alice was wearing a pair of boy's jeans, which shouldn't have looked good on anyone, but she managed to make them look like a fashion statement. Her blond hair, at least Lilly assumed it was blond since it was so light in the picture, was pulled back from her face with a headband and she was holding a pair of clippers in her gloved hands, one foot resting on the bottom rung of a ladder. At the top of the ladder sat a boy, probably not much older than her, his head turned away from the girls, but even Lilly could see that the muscles in his back were tense in the sixty-year-old photograph.

"Yeah," Lilly agreed. She turned to the next page, and showed him a picture of Lola at a baseball game with an attractive boy. A pair of tickets were encased in plastic and pressed onto the page next to it. "That's Max," she informed him.

"The one that got away?" Lilly raised her eyebrows at him, not sure how he knew that. "Miley gave me the highlights on the way over," he explained.

Lilly nodded and the three of them got to work, Oliver and Miley flipping through albums while Lilly scanned journal entries. She would have to go back and read them later. They discovered a possible Sandy who had been on a high school baseball team, also from Lola's hometown, and a Rachel who worked at a bakery in New York. There was a string of pictures of Lola and a much older man from a photo booth, and there were several snapshots of Lola in costume, one of her in front of a Las Vegas hotel, that intrigued Oliver. But they ran out of time to decipher much more because the front door slammed downstairs and Lilly's brother came running up, his feet slamming onto every step.

"Does that mean your mom's home too?" Oliver whispered, his voice laced with panic.

"Uh..." She would have tried to answer, but the front door opening and closing again did that for her.

"Mark, please don't slam the door," Heather called up to him, then, "Lilly, is Miley here with you? I saw her car."

"Yeah, we're working on that school project. She's just about to go home though," Lilly answered, picking up the albums and the journal and shoving them into the bottom drawer of her desk.

"What are you doing?" Miley hissed. She heard Heather climbing the stairs now. "She's coming up to check."

"My mom doesn't like Lola. She thinks she's a bad influence. She can't know that she's who we're doing our project on."

While they spoke, Oliver was opening the window and sliding one leg over the sill. "I would stay, but I don't want to be permanently banned from the house, so, tell me how everything goes." He climbed down and Lilly dumped the contents of her backpack onto her bed, so it would at least look like they had been working on something while Miley closed the window behind him.

When Heather came in, the two girls were calmly sitting side by side, the notes on what makes a good mystery open in front of them.

**A/N: So sorry about this one being up so late. I had planned on posting it earlier, but had some serious issues with scheduling and the internet, again. I'm kind of over technology right now. It hates me. But, hope you all are enjoying the story!**


	7. Chapter 7

"Whatcha doin'?"

Lilly jumped guiltily in her seat, almost upsetting the study corral in front of her and shoving the book in her hands below the sweater on her table.

"Oliver! What are you doing in here? Don't you have class?" She hissed, pulling him down so he was sitting in the chair next to her.

"I told my teacher my blood sugar was low, so they said I could go and rest with the nurse." Oliver gave a small shrug and an eye roll. "They don't know a soda would probably fix it, so I got out of class free."

"Wait, your blood sugar's low? How low?" She curved her body around in the seat, leaning toward him, her expression anxious.

"No, it isn't low," Oliver sighed, "I just wanted to see you. I haven't got to see you alone for more than three seconds for the last few days."

Lilly giggled, whispering, "and this is alone? In the middle of the library?" She braced her arms on her knees, her head down so he had to lean in to hear her. "Why Oliver Oken, I never thought you would skip class for a girl."

"It's just Spanish, and you're a better teacher than the actual teacher." He paused, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip. "And it's not like you're just _any _girl. You're Lilly Truscott. One of a kind."

"Well, flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Oken."

"I thought it might."

They were both smiling now, and Oliver hopped up from his seat, wandering seemingly aimlessly down the aisle and back behind a row of tall shelves. Lilly acted as though she was going back to the notebook in her corral, shuffling around bits of paper and pens for a few seconds before she got up and took a completely different route that led her back behind the same row of shelves. Oliver stood there, hands in pockets, perusing the row of hardcover volumes in front of him.

"So," Lilly asked softly as she walked up to his side, "how do you think you did on the History test this morning?"

"Didn't we already talk about that at lunch with Miley?" He took a small step to the right, his side brushing against hers lightly.

"What was it that you wanted to talk about then?" She kept her tone playful, her eyes on the spine of a book about California wild life.

"I don't remember saying anything about talking." He reached up with his left hand as though to pull a book from the shelf before he turned quickly, and Lilly found herself leaning her back against the case on the wall, her lips pressed firmly against Oliver's.

"You should skip Spanish more often," she mumbled against his mouth.

"You tryin' to get me in trouble or something, Truscott?" He groaned when she nipped at his neck.

"Do I really have to try that hard?"

"No, no you don't."

He kissed her again, his hands making their way up her ribs, and she let her finger tips rest on his abdomen, feeling his muscles contract every time she moved. Maybe there was something to her mother's idea that teenagers couldn't keep their hands off one another.

A throat cleared from just down the shelf, and though Lilly froze, she didn't pull away immediately.

"Dudes, you guys didn't like, superglue your mouths together did you? Cause that totally happened to me once."

Lilly saw the amused expression on Oliver's face as she pulled back from him, and was sure it was echoed on her own. She tended to forget that Todd had study hall with her. He usually spent it rushing through his math homework so he could spend the rest of the afternoon at the beach. She wasn't entirely sure how he was passing the rest of his classes though since math was the only subject she ever saw him do any work in, other than when she had briefly tutored him in Spanish.

"How did you manage to do that?" Oliver questioned while Todd ran his hand through his hair, making the blond spikes stand a little taller.

"I don't really remember, but dude, I had to use like, majorly medical chap stick for the next month." He shook his head at that, his eyes wide.

"I remember that," Lilly cut in, "everybody thought you got your mouth stuck to a freezer or something."

"Nope." Todd paused and the couple waited expectantly. "Oh, dudes, sorry, I totally just came back here to let you know that the librarian's back from her break, so you should be careful. Don't get caught, cause she's a real bogus chick. She got me two weeks of detention and she called my dad when she caught me back here with Sarah."

"Sarah? You guys are back on?" Oliver raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Sarah was always one for a cause. She volunteered just about everywhere, had made it her personal mission to save the planet, and was at the top of most of her classes. Oliver knew that Sarah and Todd had gone out a few times in the past, but nothing serious had ever happened between them, not according to the rumor mill anyway. The only thing they had in common was wanting to keep the beaches clean. Todd was too, well, scattered, to really have a normal conversation with anyone, and Sarah was too intense to appreciate Todd's laid back attitude toward life.

"No way, dude. She was teaching me CPR. I gotta go get certified. I'm thinking of lifeguarding this summer."

"Really? CPR? In the library?" Lilly asked him flatly.

"Yep." Todd's face colored though, and he answered Lilly's look of disbelief with a, "What? She's fun to hang out with when she's not acting all crazy."

Lilly giggled and led Oliver back to her study corral. "I guess you're going to have to head to the nurses office so you don't get in trouble."

"Nah. I'll blend. What're you working on?" He took the chair that had been next to hers and moved it just a little bit closer before he sat down.

"Reading Lola's stuff." She pulled the journal back out from under the sweater where she had pushed it when he surprised her. "I only skimmed a lot of the entries when we were comparing them to photographs."

"Anything good?"

"I don't know. I had to finish homework for a couple of other classes before I got to it. I'm getting a little behind."

"We can't have that," Oliver teased. Lilly might not have been the smartest kid in their class, but she always did the work.

She untied the journal's strap, splaying the pages open to the entry where she had left off and moved it so they could both read. Oliver's leg brushed against her own, and she swallowed, trying to focus.

"_1952 to 1953_

_The second time I tried to make my mark on Hollywood, I ended up staying for over a year, got a job at a big Hollywood club, and I waited tables for a lot of the famous folks. But after repeated attempts to break into show business that went nowhere, I heard rumors of great things happening on the East Coast. And I thought to myself, why not try my hand at Broadway?_

_So what if I didn't belong to any unions or if I'd never been to the Big Apple in my entire life? New York was where it was at, I was convinced, even if I wasn't entirely sure what it was. They had tons of dancers there, classically trained, of course, but did they have someone like me who had dabbled in a little bit of everything? Someone who would work until their feet bled? Someone who had got tips at Hollywood hotspots from some of the biggest stars? I thought not._

_Of course, just before I ran off, the Korean War began, and we started sending troops over. I knew quite a few boys who enlisted, but we'll get to that later, won't we? You know, they like to call it the Forgotten War. So many people breeze right by it in history books. It doesn't have the significance of the World Wars, and there wasn't the social upheaval from Vietnam. But so many boys never came home._

_So, during the height of the Korean War, when boys were being lost and no one was paying any attention to them, I ran to New York. I wanted to forget all about the War. I wanted to immerse myself in the happiness of the stage and song and dance and forget about all the bad things in the world. Like the people I had run away from, for a start._

_Unfortunately, New York was expensive. And my few screen credits weren't enough to get me any big roles. So, I went looking for a job. There was a dance studio that needed a teaching assistant, so I went in and applied for that. The older woman running the place loved me. She thought I had spunk. Probably because I refused to leave until she gave me the job. I was in NYC for a few weeks, staying at a cheap loft that was far away from everything when I realized, even with the money I was making in the classes, I would only have enough for one more week. Well, I had to either find a second job or find a cheaper place to live. _

_One day, I spent hours after the morning dance classes just wandering the city, waiting for the coming thunderstorm to break. I didn't know what to do. The lightning was flashing and the thunder was rolling, but if I went back to the cheap loft, I would have to concede defeat. And then, I came across this quaint little bakery in the middle of one of the most God awful neighborhoods, and it smelled so heavenly, like fresh bread and sweet rolls with cinnamon and sugar, I just had to go in. As soon as I put my foot over the threshold, the clouds crumbled and the rain pounded down, so, obviously, I couldn't go anywhere for a while. It was a sign. I had never believed much in signs before then. But, I did now._

_I walked right up to the counter where a woman not much older than myself was working and I ordered a cup of black coffee and a slice of the richest chocolate cake I had ever had in my life. And I handed over the last two dollars I had before I got paid, and asked if she was hiring on any additional help. She wasn't. Not really. But, for some reason, maybe because we were the only two people in the bakery during the middle of a raging thunderstorm, I told her my entire story. She might not have been looking for an employee, but she did need a roommate. She lived in the apartment right above the bakery, you see, so she was willing to let me stay there if I helped out in the kitchen with clean up, helped her try to bring in more business._

_It was a match made in heaven, at first. Rachel and I got along as though we had always been friends, as though we always would be. Something just clicked right away. I helped out in morning classes, auditioned in the early afternoons, then cleaned up and closed the bakery. It was perfect. Except that, of course, I gradually began doing more and more around the bakery and going to less and less auditions. Rachel even taught me how to make frosting myself, something I had never done before. My mother always told me I was hopeless in the kitchen. Apparently, I just needed the right teacher. _

_And then Rachel met Sam._

_Sam was a butcher who worked just up the block from us. He always came in on his way to work in the morning and bought a cup of coffee and some sort of pastry. He was a sweet man. A couple times a week he came by and brought us free meats too. We all became fast friends, but he and Rachel slowly became even closer, only I didn't know it. And once I saw what was happening, I didn't care for it very much. Somewhere along the way I had developed some sort of crush on Sam without realizing it. I think, looking back now, he just filled the void that Max had left in me, but I didn't know that then._

_One night, Rachel asked me to do her a favor and close up by myself. She had a couple of errands to run. So, I did. I waited on the last few people that came by, I cleaned up the counters, the equipment, finished up everything, and she still wasn't back. I got a little bored, and I didn't have any auditions for the next couple of days, so I decided to put the few culinary skills Rachel had been imparting to me to work._

_I experimented in that kitchen for what felt like hours, making my grandmother's triple chocolate cake from memory. Once I had the recipe perfected, I transformed it into my very own recipe for triple chocolate and caramel cupcakes, or, as Rachel dubbed it when she got back and topped the frosting with chocolate sprinkles and a cherry, The Lola. She begged me for weeks to tell her the recipe. You see, the next day, she added them as the daily special. They flew off the shelves. If you had a sweet tooth, you loved them. I wouldn't tell her the recipe though. I told her it was going to be a family secret, that I was going to pass it down to my kids._

_Of course, I never had any kids, but I didn't know things were going to turn out that way then._

_The dance school that I was working for got bought out by one of the larger companies, and I was out of a job. I workshopped a few shows, but my part was always recast. I felt like I couldn't catch a break. Then, one night, a night where Rachel had asked me to close up for her again, I saw them. Rachel and Sam. Now, I had steadily been flirting with Sam for the last few months, but neither he nor Rachel had said anything to me about what was going on between them. I knew that they made eyes at one another, but I had no idea they were as serious as the, what's the phrase kids use these days, make out session at the front of the bakery would inform me._

_It's funny. That very night I had decided that Rachel deserved to have my recipe. I had started to write the ingredients out, and the instructions of course, in painstaking detail for her, but I came downstairs because I couldn't remember if I had locked the front door or not. And there they were. And I was petty and jealous, so I packed up my bag that night, changed the last few steps of my recipe, and I left the next day with a note wishing them well._

_I guess by that point in my life I had become so good at running that it was just easier to escape the way I felt than to face it. I shouldn't have bothered with the recipe though, you know what I mean? I should never have screwed up the recipe. Just shouldn't have even left it for her. I'm going to track her down though, see if she, or maybe her family, still owns the little place. If they do, I'll give them the right recipe and apologize for being so... insecure and selfish."_

Oliver was the one to reach out and turn the final page of the entry while Lilly stared at it in disbelief. On the back of the page was Lola's recipe for the infamous cupcakes, and as Oliver started mumbling the ingredients to himself, Lilly recovered, placing one of her palms over the list.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I wanted to see how to make the cupcakes."

"It's a secret."

Oliver rolled his eyes and Lilly snapped the book shut, leaning back in her seat.

"What?"

"It's just," she tried to put her thoughts together. "Why would she have done something like that? She said she and Rachel were so close, why wouldn't she want her to be happy?"

Oliver repressed a smile and said softly, "should I use you, Jake, and Miley in middle school as an example, or should I go with you, me, and Joanie in high school, or maybe you'd rather I leave you out of it and use Miley and Jake and one of the other girls Miley's been jealous of before?"

Lilly crossed her arm and huffed, not meeting his eyes. "Alright, I see your point. But how do we find Rachel? A small bakery in New York in the fifties? I'm sure it wasn't the only one."

"No," he agreed, "probably not. But, there probably weren't that many young unmarried women who owned bakeries in bad neighborhoods. Not back then. And, you have to remember that it's right down the block from a butcher, and probably only a couple of miles from a dance studio."

"How exactly am I supposed to research that?"

"Hmm... give me a few minutes." He trotted over to one of the free computers and started typing away.

Lilly bit her lip while she watched him. He was really into this whole investigating a mystery thing. She could tell by the slight color in his cheeks and the way he was completely focused on the screen. (Or maybe he just knew she was watching him.) Maybe he would follow in his mom's footsteps and become a cop after all. It didn't matter how much he said he didn't want to do it, or that he never wanted to work in any field that could involve someone pointing a gun at him, she could tell he liked tracking down the facts. And he was all about doing the right thing, and stuff being fair.

Well, most of the time.

She gave a small sigh when he ran his fingers through his hair, his gaze intent on the screen, and she decided it wasn't the best idea to spend the rest of her time in study hall staring at her boyfriend. She didn't want to draw too much attention to him, have him get caught skipping out on his Spanish class. Instead, Lilly turned back to the journal, and flipped to the page with the recipe.

Right after that was a page that had a poker chip taped to it. To be specific, it was a chip with a logo Lilly didn't recognize, and $1000 printed right below the logo, smack in the middle of the chip. Why on earth would Lola have held on to something like that when she could have cashed it in?

"_Spring 1962_

_I gave up my spot in the play that would have made me a star, finally, in March. And by the end of the month, I'd decided this whole settling in one place thing wasn't for me. I'd already been to Hollywood and New York City, so where else could a woman like me become a star when she was slightly past her prime?_

_Vegas, baby. The home of Lady Luck herself. I hoped maybe she would find me once I got there._

_I know, I know, what happens in Vegas is supposed to stay in Vegas. But, even though I only spent a year there, it was definitely memorable, and someone deserves to hear the story. Or, both stories, I guess. I have a lot from Las Vegas, but there are definitely a couple that I should add in here._

_First things first, how did I get to Vegas? I hitchhiked. Well, I didn't exactly hitchhike, I guess. I had made it to this random little rest stop off of the highway, and I was looking up bus routes at this little diner when a truck driver came up to me, he was hauling clothing or something back east. He offered to drive me as far as Vegas for half of what it would have cost me to take the bus, so I took him up on his offer. Yes, I am aware (now) of the dangers of getting a ride across state lines from a complete stranger, but in those days it was pretty common. Maybe that's why people went missing so much._

_Anyway, he was a nice guy, and no, nothing happened with him. He really did just drive me to Vegas. His wife had died a couple of years earlier, and he had always wanted to travel. He thought driving delivery trucks was as close as he could get. We stopped at a couple great fruit stands and diners on the way, had the best cup of coffee I've ever had in my life right at the Nevada border, sampled the most amazing candy made out of the meat of a cactus, and then, I was dropped off at a truck stop right on the edge of town. In those days, Vegas wasn't what it was now. It was a lot of sand, only a few casinos and hotels, and it was run, not by business men, but by mob bosses. _

_We got there just after the sun set on a Friday night, and oh, that town was a vision. There was a lot of construction going on, so there were cranes and equipment everywhere, but the strip, it was still the strip, lights and signs making it seem like there was a carnival going on. I got the address from Fred where his mail was sent. Fred was the truck driver. And I fully intended on sending him things from Vegas every now and then once I got myself settled, for however short of a time I was going to stay. Yes, by then I knew I wasn't going to be sticking around in one place for very long. I was back to looking for something I wasn't sure I was ever going to find._

_I spent that night just kind of wandering around with my bag. I had a knack for only owning what would fit in a bag at this point too, you see. There was a sign posted on this small building, it was dwarfed by casinos on either side of it. Of course, when I say it was small, I just mean it wasn't exactly reaching for the moon in the middle of the sky. It was still relatively large. But there was a sign posted right in the middle of the front glass window that they were auditioning girls who could sing and dance to be cocktail waitresses all that week because they were opening a new lounge at the back of the first floor._

_Well, I probably don't have to tell you that I walked right in looking for the auditions now, do I? You should know me by now._

_Luckily, it wasn't a burlesque show or any of those other shows were the girls wear next to nothing and the audience is packed with drunk men. Even I wouldn't have been able to get up the courage to go out on stage half naked. No, it was actually a Vaudeville Revival type show, and they wanted the cocktail waitresses and bar tenders to be able to participate on certain numbers, so it was like the entire audience was in the middle of the show instead of just watching it. I loved the idea, and I showed that I could tap dance, even across the bar top, and I did impersonations of some of the famous actresses, sang a couple of Judy Garland songs, and they fitted me for a uniform on the spot, even gave me the address of the building where most of the girls were staying._

_I was set. _

_Except that the cocktail waitresses didn't really make a whole lot of money. I discovered after a couple of weeks that a lot of the girls were dating a lot of the rich, well, I did say they weren't business men, that frequented the high stakes poker tables. That's where they all got their spending money. I'd never dated someone for their money before, but let me tell you, I was definitely tempted. But, those business men could be mighty dangerous. There were a couple of rumors about girls from other lounges that had disappeared. Well, I didn't want to be one of those girls, now did I? No, instead I met one of the most handsome men I'd ever seen. He was dashing, a great dancer, and he knew how to make a girl blush, and I had thought I was passed all that when I hit 30. _

_He started taking me out to lunch almost every day, buying me presents, showing up during my dinner shift and sitting in my section, leaving me casino tokens for tips. I swear, I didn't know he was married, or that he owned one of the hotels that was under construction just up the strip. Actually, no one knew, so, really, you can't blame me. I guess I should have been suspicious, but he made me feel so loved. I didn't want to jinx it._

_He even took me to see Dean Martin perform at The Sands. Oh, that was a magical night. But, we won't get into that. It's not really the important part of the story here. The important part comes a long time after Dean Martin, and after the UFO too. I'll tell you about the UFO later, don't worry._

_I was working my late shift on a Thursday night when a woman came in and asked to sit in my section. I went over to her once she was settled and took her order. She wanted a gin and tonic. I told her that was always my drink of choice when I went out for a night on the town as well, and she gave me this strained, thin lipped smile, like she was afraid if she opened her mouth to wide she would growl at me or something. It was very odd, but I thought, maybe she was just having a bad night. So, after I had checked on a couple of my other tables and brought her the drink, I tried to make polite conversation with her._

_'Are you meeting anyone?'_

_'My husband, maybe.'_

_Alarm bells should have gone off the way she said it. Her voice was so cold and her eyes were so sad. She hadn't taken one sip of her drink either. Not even when my current beau sat down at her table.-"_

Lilly looked up as the bell rang, signaling the start of the final class of the day. She had been so engrossed in the journal, she had completely forgotten about Oliver, typing away at a computer. She looked over her shoulder and found him pulling a couple of sheets from the printer and hurrying over in her direction.

"I found a couple of places that might be the bakery," Oliver said, holding the papers out in front of him, but not giving them to her. "Come on, I need to go to my locker before we get to English."

Lilly hastily packed up her bag, keeping the journal in her hands with a finger pressed in the spot where she had left off. "You really found a couple of places?" she asked.

"Yeah, and they're both still open, so once we figure out if either of them are the right one, we can send them Lola's recipe with a note explaining everything." He smiled at her, wiggling his eyebrows in excitement and Lilly reached up to kiss him on the cheek.

"How did you manage that?"

They walked through the doors of the library, the crowds of people on their way to class beginning to surround them in the hallway.

"Well," Oliver slung an arm around her shoulders while they walked, not wanting to get separated while they were talking, "there are a couple of chat rooms my grandfather likes where people get together and rate different restaurants and stuff around the country, but these are _old _people, so..."

"So, you thought they might have known about Rachel's bakery?" Lilly cut in, catching on.

"Yep, and a couple of the bakeries people suggested right away, they have websites now, so I printed out their information since I was running out of time. You know, addresses, phone numbers, menu. I can run down the rest of them after school." He shrugged as if it was no big deal.

"Run them down?" She echoed with a slight giggle. "You sound like your mom."

"You always say my mom is such a smart woman," Oliver deadpanned.

They reached his locker, and Lilly leaned against the metal next to him while he expertly opened the door without using the combination lock and retrieved his belongings.

"You know, we have to turn in our topic today," he reminded Lilly when they started walking again.

"I know."

"We could just have Rachel be our missing person. I mean, it wasn't that hard to track down the bakeries."

"I know, but, Miley and I told Lola we would find Max. Find out what he's been up to all these years. Tell him that she always loved him, that she didn't mean to hurt him."

Oliver didn't say anything for a minute, his eyes on her. He sighed, knowing that finding Max wasn't going to be as easy. Max obviously didn't want to be found by Lola. That's why he hadn't let his mother tell her where he ran off to. He just didn't want Lilly to be disappointed if they couldn't find him. Or worse, they found him and he didn't want to hear what Lola had to say. Or even worse, that they found out he had died or something equally tragic. He didn't tell her any of these things though. Instead, he said, "Yeah, okay,"and they kept on their way to class.

"Alright, time for topics." Lee rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "Todd," he called out, "what did your group decide on?"

"Uh, this chick," Todd started to say, but Sarah, who was sitting a couple of desks to his right cleared her throat, and he continued, "I mean, this girl in my neighborhood, she like, lost her dog, so we're going to try to find him for her. He's a beagle." When he finished, he shot his eyes over to Sarah and his face colored slightly.

Lilly suppressed a giggle, turning it into a cough. Miley quirked an eyebrow at her as if to ask _what's so funny, _but Lilly simply shook her head. She couldn't explain in the middle of class.

"You guys got a plan for tracking down the dog?"

A girl in Todd's group answered for him. "Yeah. There are already fliers posted for, you know, if anyone's seen the dog, but we're going to start calling all of the local animal shelters after school, see if anyone turned him in."

"Good, good." Lee hopped up on the desk at the front, letting his feet swing back and forth like a small child, and he surveyed the room.

Lilly listened as one by one he called on her classmates, asking for the topic, and then the plan of attack they had to begin their investigation. He wasn't taking volunteers, just randomly calling on people, and he didn't know very many of their names, so his methods of getting their attention were kind of funny. When he addressed Amber, he referred to her as the "girl in the bright yellow jacket chewing gum when gum isn't allowed in class." Lilly hadn't thought of him as a stickler for the rules in the few days that he'd been around campus, but the hidden smirk on the guy's face when Amber hurriedly spit her gum out prompted the thought that maybe he had noticed the eyes the other girl had been making at him, and that was his way of letting her know he was off limits.

Amber sat up straighter in her chair as she proclaimed, "my very berry lip shine hasn't been lasting as long as it used to, so, we're going to find out if the company changed the formula."

Even though Amber's voice made her cringe, Lilly had to admit that her idea wasn't half bad. Oliver thought so too because he leaned forward, his mouth right next to her ear, and whispered, "you think the company will tell her?"

"If daddy asks, probably," she whispered back.

Neither of them were paying attention to how Amber was planning on actually getting in touch with the company, so neither of them were prepared for what Lee said next.

"You, the guy who's always got you head in, what was your name, Lilly's, personal space, what's your group doing?"

Oliver shot back in his seat so fast, Lilly was amazed he didn't fall over. She sank down in her own chair, fully aware of Miley snickering next to her and every eye in the class now focused on the two of them.

Oliver recovered quickly though, and his voice sounded smooth as he said, "we're going to find a missing person."

"That seems kind of ambitious," Lee told him with a smile, but he nodded his head. "How exactly do you plan on doing that if the police haven't been able to find them?"

"His mom's a cop," Amber cut in haughtily. "He'll probably just have her do all the work."

"No, he's not missing, like he was kidnapped or anything," Lilly said, defending Oliver. "He's someone a family member of mine knew a long time ago, and there was a misunderstanding. They haven't talked in about fifty years, so we're going to find him so they can work things out."

"Fifty years?" Lee gave a low whistle, and Lilly squirmed in her seat. "That sounds like a long shot. Tracking down someone after that much time."

Lilly nodded her head, not sure what to say. Was he going to tell them to get another topic? Her hands twisted on the desk in front of her, and she forced out, "well, we know where he grew up, and that he went to college on the east coast, so we're going to start with that."

Lee nodded his head as well, shrugging his shoulders, throwing out a "good luck," before beginning a discussion on how to ask the right kind of interview questions, how to get people to give you the information you need.

Lilly didn't pay all that much attention though, her pen clicking in her hand while she let herself get lost in thought.

**A/N: Hey guys, this will probably be the last update for a while (Not, like, a long while, just a little longer than usual). I'm working on the next chapter, but I'm not as far ahead as a I was, and as usual, I'm having technology issues. Also, I wanted to let you know that I realize Lola's journal entries jump around a lot in time, but I figure she would right them down as the memories came to her, not in chronological order. So, I realize that might be confusing, but that's why they're all dated. **


	8. Chapter 8

Seated at a table in the front of the sub shop, Lilly kept glancing up and out of the window. This is why she hated not having a car. And being grounded when she had a job. It was too much of a hassle. She could just take the city bus back to her neighborhood, but if she had to be inconvenienced, she decided, so did her mother. Checking her watch for the fourth time since calling her, she sighed, tapped her pencil on the table, and went back to her math problems.

Only three more to go.

And she was more than half way through Lola's journal entries now, though she hadn't finished reading about Las Vegas yet. Jotting down the next step to the math problem, she thought about Vegas. She had only been there the one time with Miley for that Hannah concert, and it was a completely crazy couple of days. She couldn't even imagine being in that city when it was first starting to sprawl.

Two more problems and another glance out the window. Still no mom.

And Lola had been dating a married man? Lilly was starting to wonder just how many more men could be in the pages of that journal. She had never thought about Lola as being in so many relationships before since she had never married, but really, it made sense, didn't it? Miley was still in high school, after all, and she had already had roughly a dozen different guys ask her out. She hadn't gone out with _all _of them, but most of them had managed to get her to at least see a movie with them.

Lilly punched a few numbers into her calculator, her brow furrowed.

Maybe she wasn't normal. Maybe it was weird that Lilly had only been out with a handful of guys, including Oliver... But she didn't want to date anyone else.

One more math problem and a quick check to see if her mother had pulled into the parking lot. She hadn't.

Thinking of Oliver produced a sigh, and Lilly resumed her line of thought. There was a part of her that understood why Lola would have traveled the span of the country looking for something she couldn't find. And there was another part of her that understood why she kept developing feelings for what her mother would refer to as "emotionally unavailable men." It was Max. Lola had never gotten over him. She was looking for someone or something that would make her feel the way Max had. Lilly definitely understood the need to run every time you couldn't deal with something. If she had her own car, and was over the age of eighteen, she would probably be a runner too.

And the math homework was done.

She packed up her belongings, eyes flitting to the plate glass window every so often, but her mother still wasn't outside. Well, Lilly told herself, might as well find out the rest of what happened in Vegas. She pulled out Lola's journal and located the page where she had been interrupted by the school bell that afternoon.

"_I was working my late shift on a Thursday night when a woman came in and asked to sit in my section. I went over to her once she was settled and took her order. She wanted a gin and tonic. I told her that was always my drink of choice when I went out for a night on the town as well, and she gave me this strained, thin lipped smile, like she was afraid if she opened her mouth to wide she would growl at me or something. It was very odd, but I thought, maybe she was just having a bad night. So, after I had checked on a couple of my other tables and brought her the drink, I tried to make polite conversation with her._

_'Are you meeting anyone?'_

_'My husband, maybe.'_

_Alarm bells should have gone off the way she said it. Her voice was so cold and her eyes were so sad. She hadn't taken one sip of her drink either. Not even when my current beau sat down at her table._

_I was shocked, I can assure you of that. I tried to avoid going to their table as much as I possibly could. It was just so... disheartening. I'd really thought he loved me. The last trip I made to their table, to give her a glass of water and to bring him another bourbon, he asked for the check and she told him she was pregnant. I almost fainted right there on the spot. I could not believe it._

_He left me that poker chip on the table, with quite a few more, and we never saw each other again. I couldn't cash it; that would have felt so wrong. Like he thought of me as nothing more than a common, well, you know. I didn't last much longer in Vegas after that._

_Now, you might have noticed that I haven't told you the debonair adulterer's name. I'd rather not. He became something of a big shot in Sin City, you see. He bought up all kinds of property, and he was married quite a few times. It's probably better that I don't give you anymore ideas about him. I have often wondered about that woman, his wife when I knew him. Had she been a mistress once upon a time? Or had she been the real love of his life? I thought about going back, tracking her down, many times, just to apologize. But I was too afraid to find out if I had been the one to end their marriage, or if there had been others. _

_So, instead of finding her, I'm going to send the rest of my chips to one of the charities I know she supported during her later years. Make amends another way. Even though the casino doesn't have the same name anymore, I know for a fact that those chips are worth quite a bundle. I'll include a note letting them know just how much and instructions on how to cash them in. I'm sure someone will get good use out of the money that was supposed to buy me off."_

Lilly wasn't sure whether to be proud of Lola for never spending the hush money, or if she should be appalled that her great Aunt had never apologized, but she didn't have long to agonize over her feelings because her mother's car was pulling into the lot. Carefully hiding the journal between a pair of her own notebooks and slipping them into the largest pocket of her back pack, Lilly stood and waved a goodbye to the girl who was working, hurrying out to the car.

As soon as she climbed into the passenger seat, Heather informed her, "I'm just going to drop you off at home, and then your brother and I are going to a parent-teacher conference that he didn't tell me about until today." She glared into the rear view mirror at Mark, who was trying to maintain an innocent expression, to make her point.

"Fine." Along with the short answer, Lilly gave an eye roll that her mother didn't see. If she had been home more often, maybe she would have been able to enforce her rules for being grounded a little bit better.

Just to make sure she didn't get into too much trouble though, Lilly went ahead and vacuumed the living room carpet as well as the couches, unloaded the dishwasher from that morning, and made sure she placed the recycling and garbage out at the curb. Lucky for her, just as she turned away from the road, she saw movement in the garage of the house next door. Glancing over her shoulder, and then up and down the street, Lilly felt a little foolish. She shook her head at her own behavior and marched right in to the Oken family garage.

She didn't have any shoes on, so she didn't make much of a sound while walking across the concrete floor. Oliver was standing in front of the washing machine, fiddling with the knobs, and Lilly watched him. He tossed his head, flicking hair out of his eyes. And he dumped an entire laundry basket of clothing into the opening. She balanced on her right foot, her left crossing behind her right thigh, but she almost fell over when Oliver pulled his tee shirt over his head and tossed it into the washing machine with the rest of his clothing.

"Hi, Lils." He said it without turning around, pouring a cup of soap into the appliance before shutting the lid, the muscles in his back moving beneath the skin as he did.

"How did you know I was here? I was so quiet."

"I have Lilly radar," he joked, turning to face her.

"I should've known," she remarked, walking over to him.

"You're not supposed to be over here," Oliver reminded her, leaning down and grabbing a clean shirt from the dryer, pulling it over his head.

Lilly pouted and hopped up on the dryer, sitting herself right in front of him, dangling her feet and preventing him from grabbing anymore clothing, not unless he was willing to shove her legs out of the way.

"I know I'm not _supposed _to be here, but you weren't _supposed _to skip Spanish either," she pointed out with a tilt of her head and a curl to her lip.

"Yeah, okay, you made your point," he admitted, standing to the side of the open dryer door.

Lilly scooted forward just far enough to hook her foot around the open door and pull it shut, allowing him to move a bit closer to her. She wanted his full attention. "So, I was thinking."

"About how you're going through Oliver withdrawals and how you just had to interrupt while I was doing my laundry?"

"Ye-es... but no." Lilly gave a quiet chuckle as he started picking at the threads on her wristband, his fingertips grazing her skin every so often. "I was thinking that for all of the cool stuff Lola got to do, like living in New York and auditioning in Hollywood and everything, she was never really happy, you know?"

"You mean cause of Max?"

"Yeah. She made this whole list of these adventures she had that went wrong, but I think it all goes back to him." She paused, watching his fingers on her arm and took a few shallow breaths. "What if we can't find him?"

Oliver didn't say anything, his grip moving from her wrist down to her hand, sweeping his thumb back and forth along her palm. He sighed, his eyes meeting hers, and he said, "we'll find him," even though he wasn't entirely sure he believed it, and he could tell by the expression that flew lightning quick across her face that she thought he might be lying. Whether he was trying to make himself feel better or her, he wasn't sure, but he leaned forward and kissed her, feather light, on the edge of her lips.

Even though being this close to him always made it difficult for her to think, let alone breathe, Lilly made herself say the words, "it's just that I get it." She leaned her head against his shoulder, letting his scent, along with that of the newly cleaned tee shirt, fill her nose.

"Get what?"

"Why she just kept running. Why she kept looking for something else. Why she could never stop trying to be someone different."

"Someone different? I thought she always wanted to be a dancer." He pulled his head back slightly, his hands moving down to brace on either side of her legs, trying to get her to meet his gaze.

"Oliver, I've seen the highlight reels. She was good, but... I don't think she ever would have really been a dancer. Maybe an actress. But not Ginger Rogers or Judy Garland." She swallowed, twisting her neck to avoid looking at him. "And I can imagine how it felt to lose someone like that and feel completely lost. I don't- I don't know what I would do if that was us."

"Well," he said quickly, grabbing on to her arms and pushing her away so she was forced to see his expression, "lucky for you, you're stuck with me. I'm not going anywhere." A slow smile spread across his face and Lilly answered with her own. "This is where you say that you aren't going anywhere either," he prompted.

"Of course I'm not going anywhere, you doughnut!" She laughed and poked him in the side.

"Doughnut? Really, Lils?"

"Really, Oliver."

"We aren't passed that yet?"

"You will always be a doughnut to me," she teased before hopping down from the dryer.

"At least I know you like doughnuts," he grumbled with a mock sigh.

Lilly laughed, bumping his side with her hip so he would take a step back, and she opened the dryer door again, pulling out a tee shirt and folding it for him. They stood side by side in silence, one of them nudging the other every so often while they folded his clothes. When she reached in and pulled out a pair of his boxers though, Oliver hastily snatched them away from her and folded them himself while she giggled.

"So," Oliver said as he noticed there were only a few items left to be folded, "I looked at those print outs for the different bakeries, and I think I've got the one you want."

"Seriously?" Lilly gave a kind of hop of excitement.

"Yeah, hang on, and I'll go grab it out of my bag."

"This is just your way of getting me to finish folding your clothes, isn't it?"

He paused, his hand on the doorknob. "Maybe."

She would have thrown one of his own shirts at him, but he was already through the door and into the house, and she didn't want to risk going after him. Hiding out in his garage, hoping her mother didn't get home before she returned, was the better option, so she stood there and folded the remaining shirts, all emblazoned with Rico's logos across their chests, while she waited.

When he came back, she was done, his clothing arranged in neat piles where she had previously been seated, and she was leaning her back against the machine, her neck twisted to peer out the garage door in case she had to run home. Oliver shook his head when he saw her, holding a few sheets of paper in one hand.

"You're sure that's the right one," she asked, going up on the balls of her feet, her gaze bouncing back and forth between the dark street outside and Oliver as he walked toward her.

"Pretty sure." Unfolding the papers and holding them out so she could see them, he pointed to the information in black ink. "This little bakery's called Rachel's Café. Kind of a boring name, but it was originally opened by the current owner's grandmother with family money that was left to her when she was only twenty, and they specialize in petite cakes and specialty cupcakes. They also have a complete breakfast menu." He gave Lilly a significant look as he turned the page. "And this is the list of signature cupcakes. Note number twelve."

"The Lola," she read with a smile, "a decadent mix of three types of chocolate, covered in caramel frosting, and topped with a dusting of chocolate sprinkles and a maraschino cherry." Lilly took the pages he offered and flipped to the paper with the contact information. "What do you think I should do? Call them?" She didn't give him a chance to answer. "Maybe email. Calling might be too abrupt. But emailing might be two impersonal. I don't know. What do you think?"

"You should write to them." At the confused look Lilly gave him, he clarified, "you should send them a real letter. That way it's personal, but you don't have to be all nervous talking to them on the phone. Plus, if you call, you don't know who you'll get."

"An old fashioned letter. I like that." She nodded her head and folded up the papers, sliding them into the back pocket of her shorts. "And I should probably go before my mom gets home and extends my grounding." She rolled her eyes. "I can't believe I'm going to be doing nothing all of Spring Break."

"You could always work a ton of overtime." Oliver shrugged.

"Yeah..." Lilly sighed, stretched, and gave him a lingering kiss. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He couldn't help his own sigh as he watched her walk away, and he gathered his clothing, intent on carrying it up to his room, but his mother was standing right behind him in the doorway to the house.

"Are you trying to get her in more trouble?" Nancy Oken asked him in a low tone, hands resting on her waist as though she forgot she took off her holster.

"What? Mom, no! She came over to ask me a couple of questions, that's all. I gave her some stuff for a class project. There was no trouble." He tried to slip by, but his mom stood her ground.

"You and Lilly are good kids."

"Yeah, we are," Oliver agreed, again making an attempt at moving by her.

"And I know Heather overreacted, but you have to play by her rules, you understand?" Nancy turned on her concerned mom look seemingly with the flick of a switch. Gone was the intimidating detective who was trying to get the truth out of someone.

"I know, mom." Oliver sighed. "We really are working on a project together for school. I gave her some of the research I did."

She moved aside, allowing him by with his arms full of clothes, letting out a sigh of her own.

In the house next door, Lilly jogged up the stairs, yanking the folded papers from her back pocket when she reached the top. She spread the few pages out on the surface of her desk and powered up her laptop. There were a few things she wanted to see before she even attempted writing a letter. And Oliver had only printed out the contact information, abbreviated history, and cupcake menu. Okay, so Lilly wanted to know everything. She tapped her foot impatiently while the screen slowly went from it's loading color of black with little bits of white writing on it that she never paid attention to, to her desktop background of a perfect Malibu sunrise. She clicked on her internet icon and waited for the wireless to make its connection. When it did, she got to work.

There were photos of the brick front of the building, a large window allowing passersby to look in a the cakes on display, hand painted signs on the glass with vines and curling flowers showing that the employees could decorate your cake by hand. A virtual tour of the kitchen provided footage of stainless steal counter tops and brand new equipment, all enclosed in a cramped space.

Then, a link on the page that provided the history directed her to a new set of photographs, one that showed the family history of the establishment in full force. And there was Lola. She was in one of the black and white photos standing next to a woman who looked even smaller than her, though a little bit older. Lola had a paint brush in one hand, gesturing like a game show host to the window behind her where a string of stars and swirls lined the edges. The other woman, Rachel, held a small cake in her hands, one with a design made to imitate the night sky. It was gorgeous.

Clicking through the other photos quickly, Lilly saw Rachel, and apparently Sam, whom she had eventually married, with a trio of children. Then one of those children, Trudy, was shown standing at the cash register with her mother. Obviously, she had been the one to take over. Trudy and a large number of kids were there in another picture, and she was teaching one of the smaller girls how to make a rose out of frosting.

Samantha was the current owner, named for her grandfather. And she was a recent graduate of some fancy pastry school. She was only in her mid twenties, but Trudy had retired from the cake business, so Sammy, as she liked to be called according to the little blurb, had taken over. Lilly liked her the moment she saw her picture. She had dark red hair in loose curls that ran wild when she didn't have it secured while she was in the kitchen. She had green eyes and pale skin. If she didn't have that same glint in her eye that Lola had, that one that let you know there was so much going on below the surface, or that a practical joke wasn't far away, Lilly would have thought she looked like a porcelain doll. Instead, Sammy looked like a lot of fun, which made it a whole lot easier for Lilly to put pen to paper and start writing.

_Dear Miss Lewis,_

_You don't know me, and you don't know my Great Aunt Lola, but she's left her legacy on your bakery's menu. Maybe you don't know the history behind the cupcake that's named for my aunt, and maybe you do, but you probably haven't heard Lola's version of events. I'd like to tell you a story, and I hope you don't think too little of her when you've finished reading it._

_When Lola was younger she wanted to be a dancer, not a ballerina, but a dancer on film, like Ginger Rogers. She wanted to prove to herself and her family that she could do it so much that she even left behind the only man she ever loved to try and make it in Hollywood. Well, after striking out, she thought she'd try her hand at Broadway, and that's what led her to New York. _

_To make a long story short, my great aunt moved in with your grandmother Rachel for a while, in the apartment right above the bakery. She was going on auditions and working at the bakery part time. She's the one who created the cupcake that has her name. And, well, she didn't want to give Rachel the recipe at first because she wanted it to be passed down in the family. But, Lola never actually had any kids. She decided she was going to give Rachel the recipe after all, but, it turned out that Lola had a crush on the same man that Rachel was seeing at the time. He was a butcher, and I think he's your grandfather, Sam._

_The point is, the recipe the bakery has been using for The Lola ever since, it's the wrong one. Lola switched a couple of the last ingredients so it wouldn't come out perfect. She was hurt, and not thinking clearly, and she's wanted to correct her mistake ever since, but she's been so embarrassed about what happened. You see, she was never really in love with your grandfather or anything, she just saw something in him that reminded her of the man she left behind, and she let her jealousy guide her. I think it's safe to say we've all done something like that in our lives. _

_I'm enclosing a copy of the correct recipe in here. I don't know how well The Lola does on your menu now. I don't know if the change is something you feel you have to make. But, I wanted to let you know that Lola is really sorry for the action she took such a long time ago. She wanted to make amends, and I hope you'll share her apology with your grandmother, but maybe not your grandfather. I don't want to cause any problems between them._

_Sincerely,_

_Lilly Truscott_

She surveyed her work, checked for spelling errors, and meticulously copied the recipe on to a new sheet of paper, double and triple checking to ensure she didn't miss any of the steps. She didn't want to give this family the wrong recipe twice. Lola would be mortified if she found out that happened. She had just folded the pages and pushed them inside an envelope when she heard the door shut downstairs. With her mother home, Lilly pulled out the homework she was supposed to be finishing for her other classes, hiding everything Lola related out of the way.

Heather poked her head through Lilly's door, briefly checking on her, making sure no one else was with her, but not saying anything. Lilly sighed, the end of a pen held between her teeth. She needed to find a way for her mother to not always be mad at her, but she didn't know how to do that anymore. Because if Heather wasn't mad, Lilly was mad, and the same was true of the reverse. She was just so tired of all the fighting. Miley had been right about needing a break from her mother. Too bad there wasn't one in sight.

**A/N: Sorry this chapter is so short guys. I haven't had quite as much time to write the last few days, and I didn't want to tack anything on to the end of this chapter and keep it from you even longer. I didn't think that would be fair when I had been updating twice a week before. I haven't started chapter nine yet though, so there might only be one chapter a week instead of two for a while.**


	9. Chapter 9

Thursday morning, Lilly briefly summed up Lola's first Las Vegas story for Miley on their way to school, and recounted Oliver's researching of Rachel's bakery as well.

"So, he really found it?" Miley asked while they were stopped at a light.

"I know, it's crazy, right?" Lilly spread open the journal in her lap to the next entry. Reading in a moving vehicle usually made her car sick, but this time, she was willing to try. She had to get through Lola's journal. She had to find out more about Max. She and Miley had their interview with Lola, and there were a few photographs in the albums she had borrowed, but nothing concrete yet.

"Yeah. Don't tell him I said this, but that's kind of impressive."

"Don't worry, I won't," she responded with a roll of her eyes and a sip of the frappucino Miley had brought her. It had just the right amount of chocolate in it to mask the bitter coffee taste, and it was excellent.

"Speaking of Oliver," Miley said casually, "is not riding to school with him part of you being grounded?"

"Why? Can you not drive me tomorrow?"

"I can, but I can't drive you home today. I'm leaving before English to go to a meeting with a casting director." Miley was bouncing in her seat as she spoke, and she pushed her foot a little too hard on the gas pedal as the light turned green, shooting the car out into the intersection.

"What happened to no Hannah stuff this week?" Lilly asked, a frown pulling at her mouth, one of her hands clutching the armrest on the door.

"I know, I know, but in my defense, I didn't think I would get a call back."

"Okay, fair enough." She paused to take another sip of her drink before carefully replacing it in the cup holder. Miley would have a cow if she spilled it. "It's fine. My mom won't be home or anything anyway, and I don't have to work today, so I'm sure I can get a ride home from Oliver."

"Cool. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble or anything. I mean, I could probably get you out of class too... I'm just not sure how."

"Don't worry about it," Lilly waved her off. "It'll be fine. You want to read another entry?"

"Yeah, go ahead, I want to hear what's going on in Lola Land."

"_Late Summer, 1952-"_

"We're going backwards?" Miley interrupted.

"Yeah, I guess. Some of the stuff's been out of order before."

"I wonder if it's in order of importance..."

"I don't think so," Lilly said with a chuckle. "If that was the case, Max would have been the first entry in here."

"Or the last," Miley shot back.

"Hmm..." Lilly pretended to think about that, resolving to check the back of the book later, then cleared her throat and began again.

"_Late Summer, 1952_

_Sandy, Sandy, Sandy. He was such a sweet little boy. My sister used to babysit him when I was younger. His real name wasn't Sandy, of course. It was Bryan Sanderson. Everyone called him Sandy though after he started on a little league team when he was eleven or so. The coach started calling him that and it just stuck. I didn't know him very well; he was a few years younger than me. I did go to a few of his baseball games my last year of school though. He was a pitcher."_

"Sandy's on her list, isn't he?" Miley interrupted again.

"Yes! Now, would you stop talking? I won't be able to finish this entry before we get to school."

"Okay! Jeez!"

"_I ran in to Sandy one day during my second stay in Hollywood. He was only in town for a couple of days, and he was in uniform. He was barely eighteen, but he had enlisted in the army. Guess he thought his baseball ambitions weren't going to pan out. He thought this was a surefire way to make something of himself. And, of course, with the country being knee deep in the Korean civil war, he was being called on to serve his country. He was shipping out that Monday._

_I was appalled. Even with all the military men that had been coming through the different Hollywood night clubs, I had never been able to muster up the giggles and the approval, never been able to be impressed the way so many of the other girls were. It was all just so scary to me. I didn't understand any of it. And I usually tried to avoid any mention of uniforms, warfare, prisoners, all of it, during my shifts. Most of the boys just liked it when a pretty girl smiled at them anyway, so I didn't have to worry too much about it._

_But Sandy, he was different. He was so proud. And he tracked me down because my sister had told him where I'd be. He wanted to see the sights with someone he knew, not just with a bunch of the boys in his unit who were looking for lipsticked mouths and high heels the last weekend before leaving. Like I said, Sandy was a sweet boy. I let him stay at my apartment, on the couch of course, don't get any ideas, for a couple of days. _

_He came to the club where I was working for my Friday night shift, listening to the band, and keeping the other boys from getting to handsy with the waitresses. Saturday I took him to the few studios I knew how to sneak into, got him some autographs. We even were able to get onto one of the sound stages. I knew a guard. I knew him pretty well in fact, and he owed me a favor. He came into the club a lot, and I had squared away his tab for him so he wouldn't get in trouble with his wife. Sandy got to stand under a spot light and feel what it was like to be on camera. He didn't like it much. He said the light was just as hot as the sun, and he might as well be outside._

_We went dancing that night. Sandy wasn't the best dancer, but he was so enthusiastic, you couldn't help but have a good time with him. He had to go back and stay with the boys that night though. They had a curfew and everything. He was still allowed to go out on the town the next day, but that night was a check in for them. They had some, or so he said, top secret things to discuss. He wanted me to take him to all of my favorite places in the city for his last Sunday, and he left me his best baseball card as collateral. _

_It was his good luck charm. He said he was going to keep it in his hat along with all of his emergency identification information, just like a soldier in the old World War II movies. I thought it was ridiculous. But he told me I had to take the card. That's how I knew he would be coming back. And he told me if he didn't get to come by the next day, he'd bring his fiancé to see me once he got back home. He had asked his high school sweetheart to marry him after he enlisted. My, everyone did get married so young back then. It's odd to think about now. Well, what could I do? I told him I'd keep it safe for him if he couldn't make it. That I'd do everything I could to make sure it brought him luck over there._

_He didn't show up. He left a message at the club for me though. I didn't have my own phone then. He wanted to make sure I knew he didn't stand me up on purpose, and that he still wanted me to keep that card safe for him. But, I didn't. I should have because I promised, but I didn't. It was one of the things I sold when I needed money to get to New York. And I never talked to Sandy after that. I don't even know who his fiancé was or anything. I didn't know him real well; I don't know who he dated in school. I have no idea what happened to him. _

_And I want to apologize. I broke a promise. It seems silly now to think that I've been worrying about that stupid baseball card for years, but I found it at a hobby shop. The very same one I sold. I know because of this mark on the back of it. Sandy had accidentally marked it with a pen once. And I knew exactly what to look for. I bought it back. Paid a bundle for it. But it was worth it. Because I'd hate to think that boy's been having bad luck all of these years without it. I'd like to give it back." _

Lilly turned the page, and there, between two thin sheets of protective plastic was the baseball card. She gave a little gasp, and ignored Miley's questioning grunts, her fingers gliding along the edges of the plastic in awe. She had no idea she had been carrying around a gold mine in her back pack.

"What is it?" Miley turned the key in the ignition, cutting the engine.

Lilly hadn't even noticed they were at school already. "It's the baseball card," she whispered.

"Oh." Shrugging nonchalantly, Miley climbed out of the car and opened the backseat to grab her bag.

"Oh? Do you have any idea how much this card is worth? And it's in such good condition!"

"Lilly, you know I don't know anything about baseball."

"Well, you – just," Lilly sputtered, "let's just say it's worth a lot, okay?"

"Okay..."

Lilly carefully arranged the card between the plastic sleeves, then shut the notebook. She would be handling it even more carefully from now on. Climbing out of the car and retrieving her own bag, she commented, "at least I know who Sandy is now, and it shouldn't be too hard to find out information about him. We've got his whole name, I know where he's from, and we even know he was in the army."

"You told me before that Lola and your grandfather's family were from a small town, right?"

The two girls fell into step walking through the parking lot, alternately nodding and waving at familiar faces.

"Yeah, but it's not like Crowley Corners tiny or anything, why?"

"I was just thinking... Lola and Sandy are from the same town, so is Max. And a lot of small towns have historical societies, or at least keep up their public records really well. People who live in small towns are much bigger on keeping up with their history than people in big cities." At the raised eyebrow Lilly gave her, Miley added, "What? I grew up in Tennessee. You learn these things."

"So, what? You saying we should take a road trip?"

"Yeah... too bad you're grounded."

Lilly groaned, almost tripping over the curb to get up on to the sidewalk, and they went on to their first class.

By the time she was sitting in her Biology class late that afternoon, Lilly had gone through every possible scenario in her mind, trying to mentally convince her mother to let her take a half a day's drive and possibly stay overnight at the place where her father's father was from. She couldn't think of anything that would get her mother to say yes. She was so intent on her thoughts that she barely registered when her teacher turned on the television and off the lights.

Apparently, they were watching a video.

Well, that could work. Lilly blinked, glancing around the room. No one had paper out; no one was taking notes. That meant nothing from this video was ever going to show up on a test, and this video was nothing but filler until they were released Friday afternoon for Spring Break. She leaned forward, her back hunched over the desk and let her chin rest in her hands, one finger tapping restlessly against her cheek. She stared straight ahead, wanting to appear as though she was focused on the television at the front of the class, but she could feel her eyes begin to glaze over as a diagram of the human brain filled the screen.

Videos about the brain were never good. They were always sleep inducing. And if she fell asleep, she would get detention. Detention on the Friday before Spring Break. And that would not go over very well at home.

Home. Right.

Could she tell her mother that she and Miley needed to go to a museum for their project? She had been vague enough already that her mother didn't actually know they were tracking down a missing person who was important to Lola. She still wasn't entirely sure why Lola and Heather disliked one another so much. It was a little odd.

Did Lola not like Heather because Heather cared too much about what other people thought, about making sure her makeup was flawless? Lola never cared about her makeup; she just liked to have fun with her outfits. Lilly had always been under the impression that Lola didn't like Heather because she was a bit of a flirt, but Lola, apparently, hadn't exactly been a saint, so what was the real problem?

Whatever it was, Lilly was sure she couldn't tell her mom just whom they were going to be looking for, or why. That meant she had to come up with some sort of lie to get herself out of town.

Several colors highlighted neural pathways in an animated cross section of the brain on the television, and Lilly let her eyes fall shut. She took a deep breath, and let it out in a soft sigh.

There was always another option. She could just borrow someone's car and take off for the day. She was already in trouble. How much worse could it get? Okay, she could see several different ways this could go very badly. Her mother could ground her until she graduated, for starters. Or, she could ship her off to live with her grandparents, maybe even send her to boarding school.

Ugh. This wasn't getting her anywhere.

The lilting voice of what sounded like an upper class Englishman was coming from the television's speakers now.

"_A recent study employed MRIs to scan a person's brain as they examined photographs. The subjects of the study were chosen based on their assertion that they were madly in love with their romantic partner, and had been for at least seven months."_

Lilly's ears perked up. What kind of video was this? There was the possibility this was actually going to be interesting. Why had she tuned it out?

"_Subjects were shown a neutral photograph of an individual, one designed not to provoke any specific reaction in them. This was followed up with a photograph of their significant other. When viewing their loved one, areas of the brain related to reward and pleasure lit up, specifically the caudate nucleus, which is home to a dense grouping of receptors for the neurotransmitter dopamine."_

Swallowing hard, Lilly took in the computer animated version of a brain scan, highlighting the area the narrator was talking about. She had a feeling she wasn't going to like what was coming next.

"_Dopamine, in the right amounts, creates intense energy, motivation to win awards, and focused attention. Other studies have found links to serotonin levels in the brains of lovers and those afflicted with obsessive compulsive disorder. People who are madly in love and those afflicted with the disorder both experience levels of serotonin that are about forty percent below those who are neither afflicted with mental illness or a heightened sense of passion."_

An interview followed with a woman who actually was obsessive compulsive, and Lilly started to feel a little sick. This is what they were watching right before they left school? It was as though, not only her mother, but her teachers too, were conspiring against her and Oliver now. She was not going to believe that the chemicals in her brain were what made her care about him. No. That wasn't possible.

Lilly had no idea what made her turn her head toward the doorway at the back of the classroom. Probably instinct, the whole hairs on the back of your neck standing up when someone was staring at you. Except that she hadn't felt that creepiness that accompanied something like that. Instead, her face flushed and her pulse quickened. Maybe she had some sort of radar, just like her boyfriend. Not one caused by strange chemical levels in her head though. She hesitated for only a second before jumping to her feet and tip toeing to the teacher's desk to request a bathroom pass. He gave her one without question. Lilly hardly ever left in the middle of biology.

Footsteps echoing a little in the deserted hallway, she walked down two banks of lockers until she met up with the person she had seen through the small window.

"Blood sugar low again?" she teased him, pushing all thoughts of neurotransmitters and chemical reactions out of her mind.

"Nah... it's a little high. Must have been that chocolate milk I drank at lunch or something," Oliver told her with a grin.

Lilly giggled in response, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear and letting him pull her into the supply closet across from the art classroom. "I don't think I've ever been in here," she whispered, the door clicking shut behind her.

"That's because you've never taken an art class," Oliver whispered back, leaning against the edge of one of the large shelves. "This is where all the paper, pencils, charcoal, and a bunch of other random stuff is kept."

"Huh." Her gaze traveled up and down the shelves, not meeting his while she took a few steps closer to him.

"You more interested in the art supplies than me?" he joked, flipping hair out of his eyes with a toss of his head, almost hitting the top of his skull on a shelf.

"Who me?" Lilly feigned innocence when she looked at him. "Why on earth would I be interested in art supplies?"

"Good point," he remarked, hips still pressed against the shelf behind him, but his neck bent to lean his head closer to hers.

"Still..." Lilly turned her head slightly so that his lips just missed her own. "This place is cool. Kind of cozy." She giggled again when she heard him groan against her neck, sensing his disappointment that she hadn't let him kiss her. Biting her lip, she slid her arms around his waist, her hands reaching up his back to pull herself against him.

And then she kissed him. Probably for longer than she should have. Because when she pulled away she was breathless, her knuckles white from gripping the back of his tee shirt, her vision hazy, her temperature climbing. He didn't look much better.

"I guess you're gonna need to get back to class, huh?" Oliver breathed hard while he spoke, as though he had been running around the track in gym, his eyes almost completely glazed over.

"Yeah." She drew in a breath, still clinging to him, not willing to let go just yet. "How much trouble do you think I'd get in if I didn't go back to class right away? Told my teacher I was barfing in the bathroom the whole time?"

The use of the word "barfing" seemed to snap Oliver back into focus and he winced slightly. "I don't know. If he believes you, none. But, if he doesn't," he rolled his shoulders while he spoke, feeling his skin slipping against the fabric of his shirt, and through it, Lilly's hands, "maybe detention tomorrow?"

Lilly groaned. "I can't get detention for the last day before spring break. I'll be worse than dead."

His arms relaxed around her shoulders, finger tips dancing across her back before threading through her hair. "I know. I'm gonna have to stop sneaking out of class to see you, huh?"

"But I like it when you come see me..." she trailed off, her eyes hopeful as she tilted her face up to meet his.

"I think I understand why your mom doesn't like me now," Oliver whispered with half a laugh.

"She likes you just fine," Lilly muttered. "She's just mad at me right now."

Not wanting to talk about her mother when she was hidden away in a perfectly good closet with her boyfriend, she put a stop to all conversation by sliding her body against his and giving him a firm kiss. It was a long time before either of them came up for air, but when they did, she moved back, trying to gain some semblance of composure, and she tripped, pulling them both back into one of the shelves, causing a complete collapse of one side of the closet. There wasn't even time for either of them to attempt to untangle themselves from one another, so Lilly just closed her eyes and resigned herself to the inevitable as the door shot open.

"Would you believe that I got lost and Lilly was just trying to help me find my way back to class?" Oliver jokingly asked the vice principal. He wasn't sure, but he may have seen a slight twitch of her upper lip when he flipped his hair out of his eyes.

"Look, Mr. Oken, as much as I would love to believe that the high blood sugar Miss Ellis said you were experiencing caused you to become disoriented and make a wrong turn down a familiar hallway, I don't think I can. Unfortunately for you, the teacher who found you said you were sprawled across Miss Truscott in a closet and it looked like you two had been sharing lipstick." She folded her hands on the desk in front of her.

Lilly gave a soft sigh, crossed one leg over the other, and began wiggling her foot impatiently, the small silver links on her anklet tinkling in the quiet.

"I like tinted lip balm?" Oliver offered uncertainly. If they hadn't been caught during school hours, he would likely be trying not to laugh right now.

"Oliver, stop trying to help," Lilly said wearily. She ran a hand through her hair, trying to get the knots out.

"Miss Truscott? Did you have something you wanted to add?"

She shook her head mutely, crossing her arms over her chest and pressing her lips together. When the vice principal opened her mouth again though, Lilly burst out with a plea. "Could you just maybe let us off with a warning? I haven't been in any trouble at all this year, or even last year, and neither has Oliver, but my mom-" She broke off, not sure what to say.

"Her mom hates me," Oliver cut in, nodding his head. Lilly glared at him, but he ignored her. "It would be really great if, you know, you didn't have to call her, Mrs. Jennings."

"I'm sure a warning and no parents would make things much easier on you," she nodded in understanding, "but skipping class has become something of an epidemic at this school, and the principal wants me to make an example out of everyone who gets caught." She shrugged apologetically.

"An example?" Lilly echoed, her tone fearful. "What does that mean?"

Oliver gripped the arms of his chair when there was a knock on the office door and the secretary stuck her head in to inform them that their mothers were there. "My mom?" he whispered, "you couldn't call my dad?" He was practically shaking now.

Lilly closed her eyes as her mother walked in, followed by Mrs. Oken. She didn't want to see the anger that she was sure was all over her mother's face. Worse though would be Mrs. Oken. She hated disappointing Oliver's mom. It always hurt and made her feel extra guilty.

"What exactly were you thinking?" Heather Truscott hissed.

"It- I-" She stammered when she opened her eyes to find her mother right in front of her.

"I know. You weren't thinking." Heather shook her head, exasperated, and turned to Mrs. Jennings. "What kind of punishment are you thinking? Suspension the week they come back from the break?"

"Suspension?" Lilly yelped. She'd faced plenty of detentions over the years and plenty of verbal reprimands. She had even had to sacrifice a Saturday or two. But she had never been suspended from school in her entire life.

"I think suspension would be a bit harsh, don't you?" Nancy Oken, her badge clipped to the waist band of her slacks, had a surprisingly soft voice when she spoke. And yet everyone turned to look at her. She was still standing near the closed door, hadn't even walked up to her own son yet. "I've never really understood why kids who try to get out of class are then punished by getting out of more class." She shook her own head and took a few steps forward, bracing her hands on the back of Oliver's chair. Her son visibly tensed, but he didn't open his mouth to say a single word.

"What would you suggest?" Mrs. Jennings asked expectantly, her expression pleasant.

Lilly and Oliver ended up with a few days of detention following their spring break from school, though Mrs. Jennings informed them their detentions would most definitely be served separately. Lilly didn't say a word to her mother, and continued to avoid looking at Mrs. Oken when she was told she could go back to class. She walked down the hallway, her muscles tense, her legs pumping, not daring to look back over her shoulder to apologize to Oliver for getting him in trouble.

She was aware this wasn't entirely her fault. He had been the one to skip out on his class first. But she could have just gone back to class in the first place. She didn't have to let him pull her into that closet. That video was right. Being in love was exactly like having a mental illness. She wasn't thinking straight. She was too focused on Oliver and the way he made her feel.

Arriving back to class and producing her excused note from the vice principal, Lilly was just in time for the bell to ring and to hear the announcement that they would finish watching the "Love as a Chemical Reaction" video tomorrow. She was less than thrilled.

It was that night, after ignoring everyone around her, even Oliver, that Lilly finally got a response from the person who had posted the video clips of Lola's brief time in Hollywood. His name was Walter, and he was a few years older than her, telling her in his email that he had graduated from college the year before and was trying to find work as a film historian. Lilly wasn't entirely sure what a film historian was, but it didn't really matter, because right now, he was working a minimum wage job at his hometown's historical center.

A disbelieving smile crossed her face as she read the words over and over. His hometown was Lola's hometown. He was from the same place where Lola, Lilly's grandfather, Sandy, and even Max had grown up. And he worked at the historical center. And he knew a little bit about Lola and her trips to Hollywood and New York. He even had some crappy audio recordings from one of the shows Lola had workshopped when she was trying to make it on Broadway and creating her famous cupcake, though he didn't know anything about the cupcake, of course, only Lilly and her friends knew about that.

There was only one thing to do now. Miley was right. She was going to have to take a road trip.

Yeah, okay, so she could just email this guy for information. But, Lilly had always been a hands on person. And she needed a breather from her mom. If she had to stay in the house with her for much longer, she was probably going to explode. They needed some time apart. Not to mention this whole thing with Oliver. They needed their space too. And it wasn't like she was going to take an extensive week long trip. She would just head out tomorrow morning, call in sick to school and work, and be back before her mom ever realized she was gone. It would be perfect. It wasn't like any of her classes would be doing anything tomorrow, and she knew they could cope without her at work. No big deal.

Yes, it was a long drive. Several hours, in fact. But, if her mom noticed she was gone, she would just say she was working on a project for school after work and time got away from her. That would work.

She sent off a quick text to Miley with a request to meet her in the parking lot by Rico's about an hour before school started in the morning. Knowing she was pushing her luck with asking Miley to meet her that early, she added in a promise of whole wheat bagels with honey butter, possibly even iced coffee to sweeten the deal.

Lilly sped through any homework that she might have to do for the next day, and got a head start on everything that was next. It was always a good idea to be prepared, right? Besides, they had to focus on the Lola project over spring break, so it was better to get everything else out of the way now, especially if she wasn't planning on being in class tomorrow.

**A/N: I know, I know. I'm posting this later than I said. I'll do better next time, I promise. But, we're definitely getting to the more adventurous part of the story now, so you should be getting excited. Road trips are always exciting, no? Also, the information from the video Lilly's class was watching is from an old National Geographic article. Yes, yes, I am that much of a nerd. Like you guys didn't know that already. **


	10. Chapter 10

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

One of the screws in the wooden panel of the bench under her feet was coming loose, and the toe of her sneaker kept kicking at it. It was an unconscious thing. And every time she noticed the tapping, she tried to stop herself. She did. It wasn't like she wanted to pull the bench apart or anything. She was just getting impatient. Lilly gave a sigh, sitting on the bench backing, and leaned forward over her knees. On one side of her legs was her backpack, on the other was a bag with the promised bagel.

Where was Miley?

She glanced at her watch, and rolled her eyes. Okay, so she was a little early. It wasn't her fault that she was so impatient. Really, it wasn't. She just wanted to get as early of a start as possible. That way she could get home in time and no one would think she had been missing or anything. Lilly reached down, grabbed the plastic cup that was resting near the bag with the bagel, and took a quick sip from the iced coffee she had brought to ensure she was on Miley's good side. And when Miley still wasn't there, she rummaged around in the bag and broke off a small part of the bagel.

She always had been a nervous eater. Miley would understand once she heard her request. She might make a snide remark or two as a joke, but she would get it. She always did.

When Miley's bright red car pulled into the space in front of her, half the breakfast was gone and Lilly gave her best friend a sheepish smile. "I got hungry." She handed Miley the bag with the other half of her bagel and the iced coffee.

"So..." Miley took a sip of the coffee before she went on, "why'd you want me to meet you here so early? And why are you tryin' to butter me up?" She pointed to the honey butter lathered on her slice of the whole wheat bagel before taking a bite.

"I need to borrow your car," Lilly said without preamble, sitting up straight on the back of the bench.

Miley gave a shrug, stepped up onto the seat next to her before settling on the back as well. "Sure, I guess, when do you need it?"

"Uh, kind of _right now_."

"What do you mean right now?" Miley groaned.

"Okay, you know how you said small towns have their own history centers and everything? Well, this guy who works for the historical society in Lola's hometown is the same guy who put the video up online of Lola's movie parts. He wants to be a film historian, but he moved back home for a while. And I'm gonna go meet up with him so he can help me find Max." Lilly looked out of the corner of her eye at Miley as she spoke as quickly as possible, anticipating Miley's reaction.

When she paused for breath, Miley asked a question. "Let me get this straight, you're already grounded for your mom catching you with Oliver, you've got detention in another week for getting caught with Oliver at school, you won't tell your mom our project is even on Lola, but you want to borrow my car so you can skip school and go meet some stranger who might be able to give you information about your aunt, or he might be a serial killer?" Miley narrowed her eyes at Lilly, taking a long draw from the iced coffee when she was done speaking, waiting for Lilly to say something to defend herself.

After a moment that felt like forever, Lilly said, "Miley, I just need a day to try and sort things out, get away from everything, and if I can find Max, that's a bonus, right?"

"Yeah. A bonus," Miley deadpanned. Lilly still wasn't looking at her, so Miley pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and sent a one handed text message to Oliver asking for his help while Lilly talked.

"Where are you going so early?" Nancy Oken was pouring coffee from the pot into her "my mom could put your mom in jail" mug that her youngest son had given her for her last birthday.

"Got a group project meeting before school. They want to get in some more work before the break." Oliver grabbed the mug and took a large gulp of his mother's coffee, then fanned his neck in an effort to cool his throat down while he grimaced at the bitter taste.

"It's hot," Nancy remarked sarcastically with a shake of her head, deciding it was probably in her best interest to not ask whether or not Lilly was in this group.

"Thanks, mom," he responded hoarsely, grabbing a banana from the counter.

"Please don't get into anymore trouble today, alright? You're giving your father grey hairs, and the stress is just going to make his ulcer act up."

Oliver paused in the doorway of the kitchen to say, "you know, ulcers aren't actually caused by stress, they're caused by this bacteria-"

But Nancy waved him off with a smile and said, "don't be late for your meeting."

"Right." Oliver nodded, jogged quickly over to her and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

For some reason, his mother hadn't gotten mad at him and Lilly yet. He wasn't entirely sure why she was being so good about everything, but he wasn't going to take it for granted. He was just grateful she wasn't giving him the same looks Heather Truscott was. The glare he got from her when she saw him checking the mail last night was enough to make his blood run cold. He didn't know what that woman's problem was... other than him getting repeatedly caught with her daughter, of course. She just seemed to be taking things a little on the crazy side lately.

In the car, Oliver waited until he was out of the neighborhood before he floored the gas pedal. All Miley had said was "beach parking lot Lilly hurry" in her text message, and Oliver wasn't entirely sure what that meant. It was kind of confusing, and it could be nothing, but he was worried all the same.

"_Today looks to be mostly clear skies with a balmy breeze coming in off the coast. For all you surfers out there-"_

He switched the radio off. He didn't want to be tempted by good weather conditions. Todd had called him at four o'clock in the morning to see if he wanted to meet some guys with him at the beach. Apparently Todd's Surfing Master, that was all Oliver knew him as, was going to be leading some sort of surfing seminar this morning. Oliver wasn't as zen as Todd when it came to the water though. He didn't think he would be able to handle one of the Surfing Master's seminars. They tended to get intense.

Of course, early morning meetings with his two best friends were usually intense too.

Catching every red light between the neighborhood and the beach, Oliver was beginning to get a little jumpy. He could even feel a muscle below his left eye starting to twitch while he sat at one. To distract himself, he ate the banana he had taken from the kitchen. Which then made him wish he had grabbed his own cup of coffee, even though he couldn't stand the stuff normally. Or at least some water. The next red light, he was rifling through the items behind his seat, finding an unopened bottle of gatorade, and chugging it before the light turned green.

Better.

But his eye was still twitching. And he didn't really want to think about how long that bottle of gatorade had been in the car.

And there was the parking lot. And Miley's bright red car. And there were the girls. Sitting on top of a bench in jeans and tee shirts, both looking completely fine, having a very animated conversation.

"You called Oliver?" Lilly asked crossly, without actually looking to make sure it was his car pulling into the lot. She knew that car's distinctive rattle anywhere. It wasn't quite on death's door, but she was sure it would be making its trip to the big junkyard in the sky by the time the school semester ended, summer vacation's end at the latest. The gas gauge not working was just one small problem in a list of many that Oliver kept trying to get control of.

"I texted him." Miley noted the look on her best friend's face and said, "we should all discuss your plan. It's a _group _project, remember?"

"But this isn't just about the project!"

"I know that!"

"What is going on?" Oliver asked, stepping up on to the sidewalk, car keys jangling in his hand, the key ring flipping around and around on his index finger. As he had walked up, their voices had gotten louder and louder, but he still didn't know what they were being so loud about.

"You want to tell him or should I?" Miley asked.

Lilly crossed her arms defiantly, strands of hair curling around her face in the faint breeze.

"Fine. I guess I'll tell him," she continued with a forced smile. "Your girlfriend here-"

Oliver winced when she said that. Miley only referred to Lilly as his girlfriend when she was really annoyed with her.

"-wants to take off for the day and go meet some guy who might know a few things about Lola, maybe Sandy and Max too. She isn't really sure. He could be a kidnapper or a rapist for all she knows. But she thinks running off for the day to see a complete stranger is the answer to all of the problems she's having with her mom and will give her a much needed break from reality." Her tone had turned sarcastic.

"What?" Oliver directed the word at Lilly, the twitching eye becoming more pronounced now. He rubbed at the skin below it and blinked. "What is she talking about?"

So Lilly explained the whole story again, but this time with a smile and lots of hand gestures, trying to show Oliver what a good idea it was. But she could tell he wasn't really convinced.

"I just-" She paused to think, her eyes locked with his, pleading with him to understand. "I just need a day, Ollie. Just one day away from here without my mom looking over my shoulder. One day where I don't really have to worry about anything."

"One day?" he repeated, taking a step closer to her, his hands shoved in his pockets now. When she nodded, so did he. "Okay."

"What?" Miley jumped up from the bench. "You're supposed to be helping me convince her this is a bad idea!"

Oliver rolled his eyes. "For the record, it probably is a bad idea." He shrugged though. "But... if she wants to go, she's gonna go. She doesn't need our permission."

"I'm not saying she needs our permission," Miley snapped back. "She should just think about how much trouble she'd get into if her mom found out."

"Which is why I thought you could cover for me if I run late?" Lilly asked hopefully, her expression strained at Miley's mood.

"You know I'll cover for you," Miley muttered with half a smile, her tone returning to normal. "You always cover for me. I wouldn't dessert you like that. I just... I don't know."

Lilly smiled back at her and hopped off the bench as well, picking up her backpack and slinging it over one shoulder. "So, I can borrow the car?"

"Maybe..." Miley hesitated. "Maybe we should visit Lola first, talk to her about your plan to visit this guy. What's his name?"

"Walter."

Oliver rocked back on his heels when Lilly glanced at him and he nodded.

"Fine," she agreed. "But I want to go see her now. I can't do it this weekend. My dad'll be visiting her tomorrow, and my mom''ll be home all day on Sunday. Today is my best chance." She looked back and forth between them.

"Let's go," Oliver agreed instantly.

"I guess I can miss my first couple of classes," Miley said offhand, her own keys dangling from her finger tips now. "Want to take my car?"

Oliver was relegated to the back seat, which meant he was stuck with the Top 40 radio station and a lot of makeup tips flying back and forth. When he couldn't take it anymore, he decided to complain, loudly, and repeatedly, about how hungry he was. The girls were forced to make a stop for his breakfast of choice, pancakes, when they were about half way there. Miley called the school and informed the woman in the guidance office, in her best Nancy Oken voice, that all three of them had some sort of stomach bug, and they wouldn't make it in for their first period class. In fact, she wasn't sure if they would make it in to school at all. The woman believed her and recommended a doctor in Malibu for them and everything.

They pulled up to the center just as visiting hours began, and when the guard gave the three teenagers a suspicious look, Lilly informed him that they were on spring break. His eyes narrowed, but he handed Miley the clipboard to sign in, and then waved them through.

Unfortunately for them, Genie wasn't on duty, and Lola's current nurse refused to let them in.

"She's in physical therapy right now. Her hip's been bothering her a lot lately. You'll have to come back when her session is over." Before they could even ask, she added, "About an hour."

Lilly shrugged while the three of them walked back to the car and said, "I guess I should just go then. I've already delayed my drive a whole hour."

"No," Miley instructed her, "you should talk to Lola first, just in case she remembers something important and you don't even need to take the trip." After thinking it over, she added, "besides, we still have to go all the way back to the beach so me and Oliver aren't stranded here."

Oliver didn't say anything, just shoved his hands in his pockets again and leaned against the passenger side of Miley's car. When the two girls began to argue though, he interrupted with, "do either of you have your laptop?"

"Why?" It was Miley who asked as she unlocked the trunk.

"I never got to see the video the guy posted. I thought I could check it out."

Pulling a bag from the back, she shoved it in Oliver's direction and slammed the trunk closed. Lilly found her own bag in the back seat while Oliver booted up the computer, pulling out one of Lola's photo albums and the journal. She handed the album to Miley and found where she left off in the journal, but was too impatient to read, so she closed it again and slipped it back in her bag. Miley had the album open on the trunk and was slowly scanning the pages for labels, years, events, anything that she remembered from the journal. So Lilly paced.

And after five minutes Miley called to her, "you're making me dizzy."

"Sorry." She sat down in the back seat next to Oliver where he was watching the video. He had connected to the center's wireless internet, but the connection wasn't exactly stable, and the video was playing in a fit of stops and starts.

"You know, I always thought you looked a lot like your mom, but you look like Lola a little bit too."

"Yeah, the blond hair and the shortness. I know."

Oliver cracked a smile as the video ended. He asked Lilly a series of questions about Walter, the guy who had posted the video, and Lilly answered them to the best of her ability.

"I don't think you should go by yourself," he finally told her.

"What? Why not? Oliver, I'll be fine." She turned in the seat, scooting a little bit closer to him, choosing not to notice that they were sitting in the back seat of a car. She reminded herself that Miley was just on the other side of the back window.

"What if you need some help? What if something happens? I think we should all go. Miley already called us all in sick." He swallowed hard when she sighed and leaned her head back in the seat with her accompanying eye roll. "I know Lola's your aunt, and you're the one she asked to do this, but you let us use her list for our group project, so I think we should all go."

"Fine," Lilly mumbled. "I just don't want anyone blaming me if we get into any trouble." She sat there silently for a few minutes, watching him type. "But Miley already said she'd cover for me."

He slid his gaze sideways, looking at her without turning his head. "That's true. She did say that."

"So, I guess it's just you and me then?"

"We'll see."

He sounded like her dad when she asked for something expensive. His response was always "we'll see what your mom says about it." Of course, later, he usually argued with her mom, then bought it for her in secret anyway. And Oliver had that same look on his face, like he was exasperated with her, but trying not to smile at the same time. It was kind of cute.

Miley hopped in to the front seat of the car, facing the wrong way, and shoving the photo album in their faces. "Do you think this is Sandy?"

The picture she pointed to was black and white and it showed a young Lola with another young woman who looked a little bit like her. The other girl was scowling though while Lola appeared to be throwing a ball to a boy with a bat in his hands.

"Maybe. She said her sister used to babysit him." Lilly shrugged, her knee bouncing as her heel tapped on the floor of the car. She didn't think a picture of Sandy playing baseball as a child was going to do them any good.

Miley and Oliver watched her for a second, but the tapping just got more insistent. It was Oliver who finally reached out and placed his hand on her knee, applying enough pressure to get her to keep her foot still.

"What's Sandy's real name again?" Oliver asked.

"Bryan Sanderson. Why? You gonna look him up?" Miley was teasing, still not believing that he had been the one to find Rachel and her little bakery online.

"Yep."

The keys on the laptop began clacking. Lilly scooted even closer to him when his hand left her knee and she watched the screen intently, wanting to see the results.

"There are thirty-seven Bryan Sandersons who were enlisted in the army during the Korean War," Lilly read to Miley with a smirk. She didn't know why Miley doubted Oliver's investigative skills. Did she forget who he lived with?

"Thirty-seven? I doubt there are that many from Lola's hometown."

"No..." Oliver typed a few more words and clicked through a few more screens. "It doesn't get that specific though. Probably to protect people's identity. There are eight from California though." He paused and then frowned. "Two of them died in the war, one looks like he's career military, three aren't listed in California anymore, one died in the nineties, and one was declared missing in action."

"Well, that doesn't sound particularly promising. Why don't you try running a search for Max instead?" Miley turned back around and began looking for Sandy and Max in the photo album, trying to find clues as to how they might have ended up. They only really needed to focus on Max for school anyway. They could find Sandy after. She didn't understand why Lilly wanted to go through everything, or why it was taking so long.

"There's nothing. It's like after he went back to school, he doesn't exist."

Lilly crossed her arms and sighed again at Oliver's announcement.

"Don't worry," he told her. "There are still a few things I can try."

Lilly closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, attempting to find her center. Emptying her mind, she focused her ears on the sounds of Oliver typing, the electricity buzzing from the laptop battery, and the occasional flicking of pages by Miley. The noises were oddly soothing while she sat there and contemplated her poorly planned excursion. She was losing precious time because she was having to sit here in a parking lot at an upscale assisted living center. She only had a week to find the guy of her great aunt's dreams, her mother probably needed to be put on Prozac, her best friend didn't trust her judgment, and maybe most distressingly, the thought that Oliver was proving to actually be really good at detective work was, for some reason, one of the most attractive things about him right now. It was driving her crazy. And it wasn't fair because Oliver driving her crazy was part of the reason she was going to have to get her mom on Prozac.

And that line of thinking made the deep breathing technique quit working because all she could think about now was how much easier her life would be if her mom was a little more mellow and Oliver was allowed over all the time. A dull ache was beginning in her temples, so she climbed to her feet and began marching through the parking lot.

The annoying nurse was just going to have to let her in. Lola was her aunt and she wasn't taking no for an answer.

Miley and Oliver scrambled to follow her to Lola's door, Miley pausing to lock the car and Oliver running into a garbage can in the process.

_Tap. Tap. Tap. _

Lilly didn't rap on the door with her knuckles, but used the fake brass knocker that was supposed to carry the sound better. She wanted to make sure someone heard her; there would be no excuse for not answering the door. The frown on her face was tight while she waited, but when it was Lola who opened the door, her hair half in curlers, Lilly's expression relaxed into a smile.

"Lilly! I didn't know you were coming. I was just doing my hair. And you brought friends! Come in, come in." She shuffled out of the way, wearing neon green slippers with thin black stripes running across them. "I'm sorry the place is a mess. I just got back from my physical therapy. You know, that crazy doctor thinks I might need to get a new hip? I told him my old one has worked just fine for twice as long as he's been alive, and I'm sure it will be just fine for the rest of my life." She huffed and sat down on her couch, a silver tray with rollers and pins on the coffee table in front of her.

"Curling your hair for a big date?" Miley asked her with a smile.

"Oh, no, I just love the curls. They make me look younger." Lola took a section of hair in her hands, wrapped it carefully around a roller, then pushed the plastic pin through it to hold everything in place.

"Why don't I help you with that?" Miley moved to sit next to her on the couch, picking up a roller as she did so. "I love playing with hair. That's why I keep extensions in." When Lola turned to allow Miley better access to the back of her head, Miley gave Lilly a significant look, indicating she should start talking.

Oliver quietly took a seat in a chair and waited. He glanced around the room and saw several things that weren't there on his last visit. Namely, two easels in one corner of the room where there used to be a metal shelving unit full of houseplants. He wondered where the plants had gone.

"Aunt Lola?"

"Yes?"

"You remember that list you gave me of things you want to do?"

"Of course I do. I'm not completely senile, you know."

Lilly smiled with relief, and heard Oliver sigh from his seat. Lola remembering would make things much easier. "Well, I've been working on the things you hadn't finished yet, like you asked me to."

"Oh, good. How're they coming?"

Oliver stood silently and ambled over to the easels while no one was paying any attention to him. One featured a sketch of Lola's fishtank, which would explain why it was facing that direction. The detail she had gone to on the plants and the rocks, in addition to the fish, of course, was incredible. Oliver could almost see the gills working on one that looked like it was about to leap from the page. The second featured an almost finished sketch of a man's face. It looked like the same one Lilly had shown him of Max, but the eyes and the nose were finished now. It was his mouth and his ears that had been smudged and erased over and over. Lola still couldn't make up her mind.

"Good. Oliver helped me find, or at least, I'm pretty sure we found, Rachel. I sent a letter to her bakery, along with the recipe. Her granddaughter runs it now. She probably hasn't gotten it yet, but I'll let you know when I hear back." Lilly bit down on her lip as Miley got to her feet and sat down on Lola's other side, not wanting to inconvenience the older woman when she switched to the new section of hair. "We've been working on finding Sandy and Max, but, they're a little harder to track down."

"I'm not surprised about Max. He always joked about picking up and leaving one day, not leaving any trace. He thought he could blend in anywhere. I didn't believe him back then, but, you know, the way you see things changes after... things happen." Lola sat primly in her seat.

"Things?" Miley echoed, her voice curious.

"Yes, things," Lola snapped back, and there was a bit of the Truscott temper evident in the way she said it. "I do wonder about Sandy though. I kind of believed he would be a real home body, go back the first chance he got."

"Yeah, well, that's why I was thinking about taking a trip to where you're from. Visit some of the places where you used to hang out... maybe check out the historical society or the library..." Lilly trailed off and Miley scoffed in disappointment.

"What she means is that she contacted this guy on the internet who says he's from the same town and that he works for the historical society. And she wants to go and meet him to see if he can help." Miley paused, her fingers working swiftly through another section of hair, wrapping it a little too tightly around a roller. "Today."

"Today?" Lola didn't say anything until Miley had finished with her final curler and pin. Once that happened, she stood, disappearing into her bedroom for a few moments. When she emerged, she had a scarf tied over her head, masking her curlers, and she was carrying a ring of keys.

Oliver's eyebrows raised, but he didn't say a word.

"What are those for?" Lilly asked.

"I don't have art class today, and you promised to sneak me out, remember?" Lola paused in front of a mirror, adjusting her scarf, and applying some bright red lipstick. She made a face, shrugged, and turned back to the three teenagers who were watching her, speechless. "I have a car that I keep her, but they don't let me drive it." She rolled her eyes. "Genie always has to get approval to take me for outings to galleries or to go shopping. Bah!" Shaking her head, Lola shuffled to the door in her slippers, picking up what looked like Mary Poppins' carpet bag from the bottom of her hat rack. "Well, come on, let's go!"

Lilly jumped to her feet with a wide grin as Lola grabbed her cane. "Yeah, guys, come on!"

It was Lola who furtively led them around the building, but Miley halted her, running back to her car and exclaiming, "I have an idea!" When she returned, there was a pink bag in her hand that Lilly recognized, as well as Lilly's backpack.

"Is that the, uh, travel wig?" she asked, not wanting to reveal that Miley was Hannah Montana to her aunt who might not remember that it was a secret later. She peaked into her backpack to find that Miley had dumped all of her school supplies from the larger pocket, leaving Lola's journal, photo album, Miley's laptop and power cord, and the camera Oliver had loaned them inside.

"Yeah, I thought Lola could put it on over her curlers, you know, just 'til we get by the guard."

That was Miley, Lilly thought to herself, always coming up with a plan... even if it might not work.

Miley shoved the bag at Oliver so he could hold it open for her. He was also loaded down with Lola's carpet bag, and he was beginning to wonder if he was only here to cart luggage around, but Lilly slung a backpack strap over one shoulder, proving that she could carry her own things.

The "travel" wig was actually an extra Hannah wig that was only used in case of emergencies. It was cheaper, didn't look exactly like real hair, but it would do in a pinch. Although, the pinch usually involved Miley wearing it for people from extremely far away. As Miley placed it gently over Lola's scalp, the top of the wig appeared a little lumpy from the curlers, and it didn't pull down entirely. She hastily tied the scarf back on top of it.

"I think it'll be okay for now," she remarked hesitantly.

Oliver shot Lola a thumbs up, but winced when she turned and led them to the covered parking where the residents with vehicles could keep their cars. Most of the residents couldn't drive around on their own anyway, but a few liked to leave for weekend visits to see family. Lola walked casually up to the car in the space numbered 23 and ran her fingers lovingly down the door handle.

"No way," Oliver whispered hoarsely, unceremoniously shoving the bags back at Miley. "What year is this?"

"Sixty-eight," Lola said proudly. "Still in mint condition too." She smiled at him. "I know the sixty-nine is the more famous year, The Judge and all, but this one suits me just fine."

Lilly surveyed the 1968 GTO in shock. It was olive green with what looked like flecks of glitter in the top coat of paint. There wasn't a single scratch on it, the tires looked great, even the glass of the windows was spotless. It was unthinkable. "I didn't even know you had a car," she said faintly. "Where did this come from?"

"I won it in a poker game a few years back. Didn't want to just get rid of it when I moved in," Lola responded nonchalantly.

"And you let me play with M&Ms," Oliver scoffed in Lilly's direction. If he had known she was this good, he would have just gone for a simple game of Go Fish, or maybe Rummy.

"It's just a car," Miley muttered under her breath, but no one heard her.

"So, Ollie," Lola said casually, "you want to drive?" She didn't wait for him to respond, tossing him the keys across the hood of the car.

He caught them without thinking about it, probably the best display of his reflexes the girls had ever seen. He usually dropped things.

"Seriously?" He asked.

"As long as I get shotgun," she told him.

"Awesome." He carefully walked around the car, unlocked the passenger side door and held it open for her. Lola settled inside and waited. Back on the driver's side, he moved the seat forward, ushering Miley, and then Lilly, inside. The bags settled on the backseat between them.

"There's no air in this thing is there?" Miley asked quietly.

"Air conditioning? Pssh. We don't need any air conditioning." Lola laughed. "You need to live a little Millie."

"Miley," she corrected automatically.

"That's right. I knew it wasn't Millie. I knew a girl named Millicent once. Everyone called her Millie though. She was incredibly annoying and unoriginal. I knew you had a more unique name."

Miley smiled, placated, and put on her seat belt as Lola gave Oliver a quick wink, and he answered by starting the car. Lilly rolled her eyes indulgently from the back seat, catching his gaze in the mirror after she did so, and she smiled. She felt like they were finally getting somewhere.

**A/N: I really meant to get them on the road sooner, but things kept happening that took longer to write than I thought they would... like their argument about Lilly driving off into the sunset. Or sunrise, I guess. But hey, I got this chapter up a whole lot quicker, right? Speaking of, originally, this was only going to be about fifteen chapters, but I think it might go a couple longer than that. Don't worry though. I've got everything outlined, so I know where everything is ultimately going and it will be finished eventually. And Lola's car? Inspired by a real car that used to be in my family.**


	11. Chapter 11

"This isn't the car you came in with," the guard said. It wasn't a question, just an observation as he held the clipboard out to Oliver, one eyebrow raised.

"Yeah..." He hesitated before signing. "It's my girlfriend's aunt's. She likes the car to be taken out once in a while. You know, make sure everything's in working order." He handed the clipboard back, making sure not to look at the "blond" in the passenger seat who was keeping her face turned slightly away from the guard, the hair on the cheap wig awkwardly covering her face.

In the back seat, Lilly was squashed into the floor, covered with a blanket, her aunt's carpet bag sitting on her back so it looked like there was simply a lump of random crap that had been shoved to the side in the back seat. It was a good thing she was so little. Anyone bigger than her would not have been able to squeeze themselves into the small space between the back seat and the driver's seat. She tried to take small breaths so the guard wouldn't notice anything strange.

Miley smiled brightly in the back seat, giving the man a little wave.

"Weren't you driving before?"

"Yeah. We like to take turns." The smile stayed plastered on her face.

"Alright." He waved them through.

A collective sigh of relief went through the car, but Lilly counted to one hundred before asking, "can I come out now?"

"Hang on," Miley responded. A few more beats passed and the car sped into a turn. "Okay, you can come out," Miley told her, pulling the bag from her back and whipping the blanket off of her.

"Ugh. Finally." Lilly clutched the seat and pulled herself up, turning and buckling her seat belt.

"Hey, if we hadn't shoved you down there, we probably would've gotten caught," Miley shot back, taking the wig from Lola.

"Yeah, yeah," Lilly waved her off, leaning her head back and smiling at Oliver as he glanced in the rear view mirror. He returned her smile, but next to him, Lola didn't say anything. And the foursome lapsed into silence.

"Are you sure you're going the right way?" Miley asked from the backseat.

"That's the third time you've asked me in twenty minutes, Miles," Oliver called back to her, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. They had only left the center twenty-five minutes ago. "And I'm following your instructions from that map thing on your phone."

She gave a small huff of annoyance and turned to look out the window, loose strands of hair plastered to the back of her neck. She had twisted it up into a knot, trying to stay cool in the oven that was the backseat. Lilly tried not to smile. It was unbelievably hot, and she knew Miley was going to be complaining about the rising temperature in no time. The radio was tuned to a slow jazz station too, one that Oliver and Lola kept humming along with, and one that Miley couldn't stand. Lilly was almost positive Miley would be making multiple requests for drinks, snacks, bathrooms, whatever she could to get out of the car.

It was Lola though, in the front seat, who made the first request to stop only a few minutes later. She had asked Lilly to fish a peppermint out of her carpet bag for her, but Lilly only found an empty plastic bag that used to be the home of Bob's Soft Mints amongst all of the odds and ends. There were a few sketch pads, some yarn, a hat, some makeup, all kinds of stuff. But no mints. Not even a loose one hanging around in the bottom. Apparently, Lola and her art class friends had already consumed them all. Oliver pulled over at the first gas station he saw.

"I'm gonna go inside with Lola," Miley immediately informed them, pushing the button on the seat in front of her and moving it forward as soon as Lola was clear of the vehicle. She hopped out of the passenger side of the car and readjusted her tee shirt before linking her arm through Lola's and helping her to the entrance to the station.

"Her hip really is getting worse," Lilly said, unbuckling her seat belt and propping her chin on the top of Oliver's headrest, her mouth right next to his ear, startling him.

Turning around awkwardly so he could face her, Oliver asked, "what did she do to it?"

"I don't think she really did anything to it. Her bones are just old, you know? She danced for so long, she's probably just wearing down." Lilly paused, her eyes tracing a path across his face and she blew a strand of her hair out of her line of sight. "She had knee surgery a long time ago, when I was really little. There were complications and she was in the hospital a long time. I don't really remember a whole lot about it. I do remember bringing coloring books and sitting on her bed with her though."

Oliver nodded his head, one finger reaching forward and tucking the strand of hair back for her so she wouldn't have to move it again. "Maybe that's why she doesn't want to have the surgery on her hip. She doesn't want to have to deal with all of that now when she already has all of the problems with her memory."

"Maybe," Lilly agreed, eyes falling shut while the tip of his finger moved down her cheek. She swallowed hard, her mouth drying, and hoped that Miley and Lola didn't take too long. Being alone in the car with Oliver was messing with her head. She wasn't supposed to be getting distracted. "You think we can get there and get back before anyone notices we're gone?"

"I hope so. Otherwise, who knows what kind of trouble we'll be in? My mom might make me do a ride along with her again." Oliver shuddered, but when Lilly opened her eyes, she saw that it was exaggerated. The one time his mom had made him shadow her on a night shift as punishment, he had actually enjoyed it.

Lilly giggled at the expression of mock fear on his face. "I just hope this isn't all for nothing. This Walter better know something."

He nodded his agreement, not saying anything, his hand resting next to her cheek, thumb skimming her skin. Lilly stopped talking, her eyes meeting his again, and she bit down on her bottom lip almost hard enough to draw blood. They stayed in those positions, silent, until Miley stuck her head in the passenger window.

"We got a problem," she informed them flatly, gesturing over her shoulder when they turned to look at her.

"What kind of problem?" Lilly asked.

Behind Miley, a couple of parking spaces away, was a small green car with a few bumper stickers denoting the driver's child was a girl scout, and then a few more advocating for health care reform and a vegetarian life style. The woman standing next to the car looked vaguely familiar, but Lilly could only see her from the back, and her posture was angry, a single finger pointed at Lola who had one foot on the sidewalk, the other on the black top, and she looked utterly defiant.

"Where do I know her from?" Oliver wondered aloud, fixing his attention on the woman who looked like she was not on Lola's good side.

"That would be our friendly neighborhood nurse Genie, who was on her way in for her shift, and saw Lola. She's kind of pissed."

Pissed was an understatement. In the few times that Lilly had met Genie, she was always calm, collected, courteous, and an all around sweetheart. Right now though, as the three of them crossed the gas station's lot to her car, she looked livid. There was a crease in the middle of her brow that deepened every time Lola responded to her and bright spots of color in her cheeks.

"Miss Truscott, you _cannot_ just leave whenever you want to. You _know_ you have to be monitored by the staff because of your condition. Get in the car, and I'll take you back to the center with me." She clenched her jaw.

"Condition, shmundition. I'm fine." Lola rolled her eyes and shook her bag of peppermints at the nurse as though to prove her point. "Heather and her friends are just taking me out for a little spin. We're gonna visit my old stomping grounds."

"Heather?" Miley whispered, her eyes wide.

Lilly mouthed the name as well, no sound coming out, wondering if Lola knew more than one Heather. But Lola turned to her and said, "tell her, Heather."

"Yeah. Just a little spin," Lilly said faintly, not believing that Lola had just called her Heather. It was too much of a coincidence that her mother's name was Heather. She knew Lola had to be referring to her though. And Lola tended to get confused when she was stressed. But still, Heather? She couldn't possibly be thinking-

"Heather's helping me with a project, Genie," Lola whispered conspiratorially.

"She is?" Oliver asked. "I didn't know Heather was helping you with anything."

"Oh, you're so silly." Lola lightly pushed one hand against Oliver's shoulder. "You know Heather owes me."

"She does?" Oliver put on his most confused expression.

Lilly left her face carefully blank when her great aunt turned to face her. Why exactly would Heather owe Lola anything?

"I paid for the wedding, remember? Heather and Ken were fresh out of college, they couldn't afford a big wedding, and her parents were completely against them marrying so young, so I helped out. Heather promised me one favor, anything I wanted, any time." Lola smiled proudly at Lilly. "I think that was most certainly a fair trade."

Lilly tried to smile back, but she couldn't remember how. Lola had actually liked Heather once. The mind boggled.

"I'm so glad you changed your mind and decided to help me visit Max. He'll be so surprised! I'm so relieved that you have a way to find him."

"Yeah," Lilly said, her smile not quite reaching her eyes, not completely understanding what was going on. "But, Genie's right. You should really see a doctor about your, uh, condition." She felt guilty about it, but she couldn't see how they could take Lola with them like this. "I'll, um, I'll find a way to bring Max to you."

"Oh, would you?" Lola's eyes were wide now, her face rapturous.

"Go get her bag out of the car," Lilly told Oliver, her hand slapping at his arm without her actually looking at him.

"Uh huh." He kept looking over his shoulder at Lola as he walked, too stunned to process this turn of events.

"You have to come back with her," Genie informed Lilly softly.

"What? Why?" Miley asked.

"If a family member took her out of the center, they have to verify when she comes back in. And, since it's a school day, I'm guessing you don't want me calling your dad for verification."

Lilly and Miley looked at one another while Lola settled herself in the car, her curlers still in place under her scarf. The thought that it was probably about time to take them out vaguely crossed her mind, and she sighed. Another delay.

"I could do it, couldn't I?" Miley asked. "Take her back with you? I mean, you know I was with her, so..."

Genie hesitated, knowing it was technically against the rules, and answered, "Lilly would need to be the one who signs the paperwork..."

She gave Miley a look and Miley nodded in understanding. "Good thing I go by Lilly then."

"You can't-" Lilly started, but Miley grabbed her arm and pulled her away from Genie while Oliver gave her Lola's bag.

"Yes, I can. I'll get my car, go into school, say that you guys have this stomach bug worse than me, and I'll cover for you if your mom's looking for you, okay? It'll be fine." While she hadn't been fond of this plan in the beginning, Miley felt much better knowing that Lilly wasn't going on her own. "Just have Oliver turn his cell phone off. His mom probably has it lowjacked or something," she joked.

"Thanks, Miley."

Lilly and Oliver watched Miley hop into the backseat of the car and Genie drive off in the direction they had just come from.

"So," Oliver said nonchalantly, "guess it's really just you an' me, huh?"

"Yeah. Let's go before Genie realizes we have Lola's car and turns around."

She didn't mention that the idea of being alone with Oliver all day was making her a little twitchy, and feel even more guilty. All she could think was that her mother would kill her if she found out.

Miley had every intention of doing exactly as she said, retrieving her car from the center and going on into school. But pulling up to the center in Genie's car with Lola babbling on and on about Heather, and what a great "niece" she was made Miley curious. After she signed the paperwork, she asked Genie if it was alright if she stuck around for a while.

"You sure you want to do that?" Genie questioned. She and Miley were watching Lola as she sketched by one of the windows in the main building. "It might be a while before she's completely lucid... and in the present. Her confusion comes and goes quickly some times, but other times... Some days are a whole lot better than others."

"I know, and that's fine. She thinks I'm a friend of Heather's, right? I just want to talk to her for a little while." Miley smiled her brightest and most reassuring smile, not unlike the one she used as Hannah for her album photo shoots, or the one she had thrown at the guard this morning, and Genie shrugged her shoulders, saying she could stay as long as she didn't agitate Lola.

Walking quietly over to the table, Miley observed Lola. While she had been signing paperwork and assuring doctors that they hadn't given Lola any unapproved medication, Lola had taken her curlers from her hair and wiped off the little makeup she had been wearing. She looked paler than the last time Miley had visited, her hair a little bit thinner. Miley understood why Lilly was so determined to finish Lola's list now. Lola might act spry, and her head might get stuck in younger generations, but she was getting _old._

"You all done with the nurse?" Lola asked, her pencil running in quick sharp lines over the pad on the table.

"Yep." Miley paused and waited. When Lola didn't say anything else, she continued, "How you feeling? Talk to the doctor?"

"Yeah... he's real concerned about my hip. Pshh. I told him I feel fine." A half smile crossed her face and the pencil twisted in tight circles with a twitch of her fingers.

"I was wondering," Miley said, her voice trailing off before she sat down at the table. "Um, could you tell me what Heather was like when she first got married?"

Lola looked up from her sketch pad, squinting at Miley as though the change in perspective had thrown her off.

"It's just... she and I weren't as good of friends then, so I didn't get to go to the wedding." Miley gave Lola an encouraging smile, propping her chin in one of her hands. She peered down at Lola's sketch when the older woman smiled back.

"No, no!" Lola covered the drawing in progress with one wrinkled hand. "You can't look until I'm done." She nodded her head with another smile and thought, her eyes sparkling as Miley determinedly looked straight ahead. She went back to sketching, glancing up at the teen every so often to make sure she wasn't sneaking any of her own glances at the paper. "Heather was a sweet girl. A little stubborn. And a little obsessed with finding the perfect dress. And the perfect cake. Everything had to be exact to her specifications. She was quite the planner. But sweet. Ken worshiped her, did anything she asked. He was like a little boy who had found his favorite toy and wanted to make sure it didn't get broken." Lola sighed, her eyes clouding over a little bit.

Miley frowned, her nose wrinkling in confusion. Lilly's dad thought of her mom as his favorite toy? That didn't sound like reason enough to marry her. And just because he worshiped her didn't mean he was in love with her exactly. And sweet? Heather was funny and sarcastic, but she wouldn't really describe her as sweet. The obsessive planning and the need for perfection definitely sounded like Heather though. She could just imagine Heather shopping for a dress, incessantly pestering sales girls about hemlines, different shades of white, lace detail, the perfect veil, all of it.

Not that Miley thought a little detail orientation when looking for a wedding dress was a bad thing. Wedding dresses did have to be perfect, after all.

Lola sighed and blinked, breaking Miley from her train of thought. "Are you okay Lola? Maybe you want me to get the nurse?"

"Miley?" Lola asked, a little confused. "What were we talking about? Is Lilly here with you?"

Miley's mouth opened in a little "oh" of surprise. Genie had been right when she said the confusion on Lola's part could come and go sporadically. "Uh, Lilly left a little while ago. She and Oliver went to work on your list." Miley searched Lola's face and saw a spark of recognition. "We were just talking about Lilly's parents getting married."

Lola laughed easily. "Why on earth were we talking about that?" She looked back down at the paper in front of her, eyes taking in the drawing she had been working on before looking at Miley again.

"I'm just curious about her parents. They seem so different, you know? It's hard for me to imagine them getting married. They never really got along when I met Lilly."

Nodding in understanding, Lola remarked, "yes, they are two very different people. I don't really know why they wanted to be together. I think Ken really thought he loved Heather, but Heather... I think she loved the idea of Ken. He was the kind of man she envisioned herself with, so she decided to go for it when he miraculously got up the courage to ask her to marry him." She paused. "He's always been a worrier, you know, never one to put himself out there right away."

Miley smiled at Lola's remark. Ken Truscott really wasn't the bravest of men. She glanced away though, not meeting Lola's eyes when she asked, "and Heather knew about Max?"

"Max?" Lola's voice sounded surprised, but Miley didn't turn around to look at her. "Well, yes. She um, she said she owed me a favor, and when I found out she and Ken were getting a divorce, I decided to ask for her help to find Max. She was completely against the idea, thought I should have moved on." She sighed, her tone more subdued, and Miley turned her attention back to her. "But she did do some research for me. She said she didn't find him, but I have a feeling she knows something and just doesn't want to tell me. We argued about it, and we haven't really talked much since." Her pencil moved in harsh lines across the page now, her hand almost shaking. "She thinks I'm a bad influence on Lilly, that I shouldn't encourage her to stay with Oliver. Hrmph. Thinks it's just puppy love, that they won't even be friends in a few years. She says it's all a case of too much, too soon." Shaking her head, Lola licked her thumb and used the pad of her finger to smudge a bit of the graphite on her sketch. "She doesn't understand."

"Yeah," Miley agreed softly. She had often wondered if Lilly and Oliver would make it passed high school, but quite honestly, now that they were together, she couldn't imagine one of them without the other. It would be too strange. "You think they're going to be together forever?" she asked after a few moments where the only sound was a conversation going on over a game of bridge in another corner of the room.

"I think that even if they aren't together twenty years from now, they'll wonder where they went wrong. I think they'll always mean more to one another than anyone else will mean to them." Lola added a few swift strokes to the page then held it up for Miley to view with a slight flourish.

And there on the page was Miley, her hair a little messy, her face thoughtful as she stared out a window.

"Wow!" Miley reached out for the pad, holding it carefully by the edges. "You did that so fast!"

"I think I'm going to add it to my work for my art class. That okay with you?"

"Sure!"

They talked for a little while longer, but it was obvious to Miley that Lola was pretty worn out, so she didn't want to stay too much longer. Instead, she helped Lola back to her room, and gave her a promise that she would let her know if Lilly and Oliver found anything. As she walked back to her car, she hurriedly dialed Lilly's cell phone number, wanting to tell her the little bit of information she had just learned about Lola and Heather.

Unfortunately, the call wouldn't go through. Lilly must have been in an area with no cell service. Miley groaned and decided she would have to put in some kind of appearance at school so that she would be able to cover for her friends. She got in the car, and turned her key in the ignition, not looking forward to seeing the guard again on the way out.

Lilly's fingers tapped restlessly on the edge of the door before her hand moved and turned the window crank, clockwise and then counter clockwise, her eyes following the triangular section of the smaller window as it turned out from the car and then back in. It looked like a miniature wing or something. Too bad they couldn't actually fly anywhere.

An hour in the car already felt like a lifetime. And she was slumped against the door, determinedly not sitting as close to Oliver as she could. It was too hot, and too tempting, to be that close to him. This was why summer romances were always so intense and so fleeting. It was the increased temperatures. It melted your brain or something. Made you do something that you knew you shouldn't.

Oliver shot a glance in her direction, one of his hands tapping out a rhythm on the steering wheel. He sighed, but didn't say anything, and a burst of static from the radio let him know that the jazz station Lola had favored was no longer coming in. He reached out to adjust the old-fashioned dial, but changed his mind, opening his mouth and saying, "why don't you find something else for us to listen to?" It was the first words either of them had said in almost an hour. Only ten minutes alone in a car together and they seemed to run out of things to say.

Clearing her throat, Lilly leaned forward, feeling her tee shirt peel itself away from the seat, and used a single finger tip to move the dial. She moved it by a news station, another one all in Spanish, some classical music, and sighed in frustration. Nothing was coming in. Another burst of static and she turned the volume all the way down, hearing it click off. Knowing Oliver's eyes were on her again, she muttered, "nothing's coming in. I'll try again later."

He nodded, his eyes focusing on the road again, and tried a new tactic. "You bring Lola's journal with you?"

"Mmm hmm."

"You ever finish reading it?"

"No."

"Want to read me some?"

"Yeah, sure." She gave him a tight smile, unbuckled her seat belt and turned, one knee in the seat, to reach into the back and grab her back pack.

Oliver tried not to stare at how her jeans fit her and swallowed, both hands on the wheel, his eyes burning a hole through the windshield. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea.

"Okay," Lilly huffed as she settled back in her seat, buckling the belt, and holding the book in her lap. "What was the last one I read?" she mumbled under her breath, thumbing through pages. When she reached the baseball card covered in plastic, she sucked in a breath. Lola really was full of surprises, and she turned the book carefully to the next page.

"_Spring 1962_

_Before I met Mr. Wonderful, the married man who tried to pay me for my services in poker chips, I had an interesting experience in Vegas. (This has nothing to do with my list, but I think people should know that it happened. It wasn't just a bunch of crazies who made it up.) I had only been training for my job a couple of days, and a few of the girls and I went out for one real Vegas night before we had to start working nights._

_It was fun, at first. We went to a show, had dinner, had drinks, did some dancing. But it was as we were leaving one club and heading to another that it happened. We were all on the edge of the lights, an area where you could actually see a little bit of the sky. You know, there's a whole lot of sky, but it doesn't look like it in Las Vegas. There isn't much too see beyond the tops of the buildings, not usually. _

_What I saw that night was amazing. I don't care if people think I'm crazy. I know I saw it. There was a bright light, and it wasn't a plane or anything. It moved to fast. It hovered there, out over the desert, before it zoomed away. It was only a few minutes, and then it was gone. Just like that. Poof. None of the other girls believed me when I told them, even though I know a couple of them saw it too._

_But it was all over the papers. People flocked to that spot, claiming it had been a space ship. Anyone who talked about it on the job got ridiculed though, so when people asked me about it, I had to play it off, act like I knew nothing. After the weather balloon crash in Roswell all those years ago, people were pretty divided on whether or not a UFO could really be anything from outer space, or if it was just some sort of trick. _

_I still think it was real. I don't know what it was. Maybe it was aliens, maybe it was some sort of weird experiment. But it wasn't just a trick of the light."_

"I can't believe Lola saw a UFO," Oliver chuckled. "That's so awesome." He shot a look at Lilly, but she was staring at the next page where there was a doodle of a flying saucer and a cartoon-like alien.

"You think it was really a flying saucer?" She asked him, turning the page and moving on to the next entry.

"I don't know. There was really a siting in sixty-two though. One in Vegas and another one somewhere in California. A couple days apart." He eased the car into a stop at an intersection.

The sides of Lilly's mouth curled up and she faced him. "Why do you know that?"

"Don't you remember my alien phase?" He smiled.

"Alright, space man, I'm gonna read the next one." She shook her head in amusement, and a breeze blew through the car, finally cooling down the interior, even if it was only for a minute.

Oliver applied the gas, and Lilly kept reading. She sped through an entry about a fight Lola had with her sister, another about a marriage proposal from a guy that she only dated a week, and a third about a stint as a nanny that had gone awry.

"She's had just about every job you could have, hasn't she?" Oliver mused.

Lilly agreed and showed him a photo of the family Lola had worked for when she was a nanny. The kids had paint all over them, and Lola looked as though she was at the end of her rope, but the woman in the far corner of the picture, probably the mother, looked completely at ease, her expression serene. "At least she wasn't sleeping with the dad."

Oliver raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You think Lola would do that?"

"No." Lilly sighed. "I didn't mean it like that. She wouldn't do something like that on purpose, anyway." She finally broached the subject that had been bothering her since Lola and Miley had left with Genie. "Why do you think my mom dislikes Lola so much? Do you think she resents her for being the one to pay for the wedding?"

"I don't know, Lils. What do you think?"

"I don't know." She ran one hand down the page in front of her before watching him drive for a minute. "I thought, when Lola said Heather knew about Max, that maybe it had something to do with that, but it doesn't really make sense, does it? Why would my mom be so upset that Lola wanted to find the guy she's been in love with since she was in high school? That doesn't really make sense either."

"Nah. Your mom can be... intense. But she isn't anti-love. She's pretty mushy. She likes all those happy endings and everything. I'd think that she would love the idea of tracking down Max." He shook his head, hands wrapped tightly around the wheel.

Lilly opened her mouth to say something else, but she heard a strange noise. It started off soft, but kept getting louder and louder. It was like the car was going across one of those paneled bridges, but they were on smooth asphalt. The louder the noise got, she realized she could feel it in the seat. "Uh, Oliver?"

"Hang on," he responded, pulling the car over on the deserted stretch of road. He cut the engine and climbed out, Lilly following his example.

"You've got to be kidding," Lilly cried when she saw the front tire. It was almost completely flat.

"I think we must have run over a nail or something," Oliver told her softly, putting a hand on her shoulder and steering her toward the trunk. "You ever changed a tire?"

"No. You?"

"No. But I think I know how to. In theory." He flashed her a smile and Lilly couldn't help but smile back. Unlocking the trunk, he lifted the fabric in the back to find the spare underneath, and the smile fell. "I thought Lola said this was mint condition."

"She did."

Oliver gestured to the tire and Lilly grimaced. It was completely eaten through, probably dry rot. She wrinkled her nose up and looked at Oliver questioningly. He slammed down the trunk and walked back to the front of the car, only to turn right around and walk back.

"Should we call a tow truck?" he asked her.

"You know the number for a company out here in the middle of nowhere that will tow a car for minors without calling their parents?" She shot back, her arms crossing. "Maybe we should call Miley," she added, her tone neutral.

"She should be in class now." Oliver bit his lip, glancing down the road the way they had come. "There was a truck stop a way back. They probably have a gas station, minor repair place near by."

"It's gonna be a long walk," Lilly mumbled, reaching up and putting her hair into a pony tail.

"We can't both go. One of us should stay with the car!"

"I'm not staying on the side of the road by myself!" She reached into the front seat to find her cell phone, then opened the door and rolled up the window. Oliver mirrored her actions on the other side of the car and locked the door.

"Fine. We'll both go." He seemed resigned as he shoved his phone and Lola's car keys into his pockets.

Lilly gave a small, triumphant smile and headed down the side of the street, kicking up bits of dirt and dust with the tips of her sneakers.

**A/N: Not a very successful road trip so far, is it? Haha. It'll get better. Maybe. It's always fun to see just what could possibly go wrong when someone's on a deadline though, so I'm sure there will be plenty more obstacles in their path. And the UFO story, I'm neither agreeing with nor disputing the events of 1962. Oliver's right. There really was a sighting in Las Vegas then, but who knows what it really was? How'd you guys like this chapter? Next one should be up some time late next week.**


	12. Chapter 12

Gravel crunched beneath their feet as they trudged up to the mechanic's area of a small "truck stop." Lilly couldn't understand why Oliver would have called it that. There was no way this place would be able to service any of the truckers who drove this way on their routes. There was a gas pump, a small garage, and a pile of tires. That was pretty much it for the area of car repairs. Just next door was what proclaimed itself to be Dot's Deli. Lilly scrunched her nose up at the layer of grime that covered the sign. It used to be white with thick blue lettering. Now it was two different shades of grey.

"I don't know about this," Oliver muttered, a hand on her wrist causing her to stop just at the edge of the lot.

"Don't know about what?"

"This place."

"You were the one who suggested it!" Lilly burst out.

"Only because it's the only place around for miles!" Oliver shot back.

A rattling sound, like a chain moving across concrete, came from inside the garage.

"What was that?" Lilly took a step closer to his side.

"See? Not a good idea!" Oliver's hand wrapped around her forearm, holding her next to him. "This is what always happens in the horror movies, you know. The cute couple gets stranded somewhere, and they find a deserted building owned by some creepy guy, and everything turns all crazy and bloody from there."

His eyes were wild when Lilly slowly turned her head to look at him. With a roll of her eyes, she gestured to the trio of cars parked outside of the deli to show that it wasn't exactly deserted

"You really should stop watching horror movies if they're going to have this effect on you."

And with that she started walking toward the garage.

"What? Lilly, wait!"

Oliver hurried after her, but they both had to back up from the edge of the doorway when an odd looking dog hobbled forward and began barking at them.

"You think he's angry?" Lilly whispered, her gaze taking in the hodge podge of colors in the fur and the dark eyes of the animal in front of them.

"I would be if I had to be in a garage all day," Oliver returned.

"Or maybe it's because he's missing a leg." She took a couple steps forward and knelt awkwardly on the concrete. "Hello there, doggie," she said, stretching out a hand cautiously, "where's the person who works here?"

The dog didn't answer her, but it did stop barking, wagging its tail and hopping toward her, sniffing her outstretched fingers.

When the dog glanced over her shoulder, Lilly whispered, "don't mind Oliver. He's afraid of all dogs, not just you."

"I am not afraid of dogs!"

"That's good, cause Lucie here's a sweetheart. I only have to attach the chain to her collar because of some code or something. Don't want to scare off the customers," a man in a pair of dark blue coveralls told them. He was wiping his hands with a rag, his forehead shiny with sweat. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, yes, you can." Lilly patted the dog on the head and stood with a smile. Lucie whined and flopped down at her feet. "We've got a flat tire-"

"Where's the car?" the mechanic interrupted easily.

"It's up the road that way," Oliver pointed his hand in the direction they had walked from.

"Well, alright. Let me just lock up, and I can tow your car in."

"Oh, no, really, if you just give us the tire, we could walk back and change it," Lilly cut in, knowing that between the two of them, they probably didn't have enough money to pay for a tow, new tire, and a tire change.

"What size tire do you need?"

"Uh-" Lilly and Oliver looked at one another and shrugged at the same time. They had no idea.

There was a sigh and then, "How far away is your car?"

Oliver noticed the thread stitched into the guy's coveralls said Bob, but he wondered if that was his real name, as he said, "a couple of miles, maybe."

"What are you gonna do? Roll the tire back there?" He asked in surprise. "Tires are a lot heavier than they look, you know."

"Right," Oliver agreed with a sigh of his own.

He and Lilly waited while Bob, or whatever his name was, locked up, and ran next door to let Dot (because the woman who ran the deli really was Dot) know that he was going to pick up a car. He walked Lucie over to Dot's as well, finding her a shady spot at the back of the building, and leaving her a bowl of water. She laid down, her head on her front paws, looking awfully disappointed that she didn't get to go anywhere, but her ears perked up when a squirrel ran by.

"How much money do you have?" Lilly questioned, her tone hushed while they followed their newfound mechanic to the truck when he was done.

"Probably enough to pay for the tire," Oliver responded, his voice just as low. "You?"

"I don't know. My wallet's in my backpack. In the car." She shot him a worried look before she climbed into the cab of the truck, sliding herself to the middle of the bench seat, careful not to get too close to the grease that covered the blue coveralls of the mechanic.

Bob hit a button on the radio and notes of a classic rock song thundered out of the small speakers in the dashboard. Lilly winced, but Oliver nodded his head along with the music as they pulled out of the parking lot. It took no time at all to get back to the car, and Oliver lamented the loss of the air conditioning as he hopped out of the truck.

"Man, it's so hot," he moaned to Lilly.

"Yeah, yeah," she agreed dismissively.

"You guys didn't tell me your car was such a beaut'." Bob gave a low whistle, circling the car to check for any damage beyond the flat tire.

"Mmm," Lilly made a noncommittal noise of agreement. She just wanted to get this over with and get back on the road. She took a moment to grab her backpack out of the car, then she and Oliver waited on the side of the road while Bob hooked the car up on the trailer.

It took them almost forty minutes total to get out to the side of the road, hook up the trailer, then make it back to the garage. Lilly winced every time the truck hit a bump in the road and she could hear the car rattling around. She hoped Lola's car was going to stay in its almost perfect condition.

Miley walked so quickly from her last class out to her car that she was practically on the tips of her toes the entire way there. She tried again to call Lilly, but it still wouldn't go through, so she changed tactics and tried calling Oliver instead. Straight to voicemail. Which meant that they had taken her joke seriously and turned his phone off. Of course, now that she thought about it, his mother probably did have his phone monitored, so maybe it was a good thing she had made the joke. Having Nancy Oken on your trail could never be a good thing.

She shuddered at the very thought, and began driving on auto pilot, not noticing where she was going until she wound up in the parking lot for the mall. Rolling her eyes at her seemingly unconscious need for retail therapy, Miley scrolled through the list of contacts in her phone to find the sub shop where Lilly worked. If Lilly's phone didn't have any service, it was likely she hadn't called in sick yet.

When the customary perking and polite greeting of the sub shop's employee reached her ears, Miley put on her highest pitched voice and asked to speak with the manager. When he finally came on the phone after leaving her on hold for almost four whole minutes (Miley's eyes were glued to the dashboard clock the entire time), she gave the stomach bug excuse as though she were Lilly, complete with a few dry heaves. Clicking her phone shut when the call was completed, Miley hoped her best friend appreciated all of the people she was having to lie to on her behalf.

To get rid of the guilt, Miley decided to stop at the makeup counter at her favorite department store and help a few sales girls earn their commission. Someone should benefit from all of this lying, after all.

"Sixty dollars?" Lilly asked incredulously "Just for the tire?".

"Sixty," the man on the other side of the counter confirmed. "Plus tax." He added the words with a smile and Lilly fought the urge to wipe it off his face.

She still wasn't sure if his name was Bob or not, but she didn't care anymore. She was sick of being here.

"How long's this going to take?" Oliver asked, sensing Lilly's mounting anxiety.

"Oh, an hour, maybe two," he said, the smile still plastered across his face. Lilly gritted her teeth as Bob informed them that he didn't have the size tire they needed in stock, so he was having to get one from the next town over.

"This is a town?" Lilly responded flatly.

Oliver grabbed her arm and hauled her away from the service counter, calling over his shoulder, "we're gonna go next door to Dot's; we'll be back in another hour or so."

Lilly squirmed in his grip a little bit, but she didn't pull away. "There is no way a tire costs that much!" she snapped once they were outside and half way across the lot to Dot's.

"Tires can be expensive," Oliver told her. "Especially new tires."

"And two hours? Ugh." Lilly shook her head in irritation, looping her arm around his and giving in to the fact that he wasn't going to let her go beat up the mechanic. Besides, it wouldn't do to beat up the only person near by who could get them back on the road. She may have been angry, but she was a realist. "I can't believe the next car place is that far away."

Oliver didn't say anything, just opened the door for her and let her walk ahead of him up to the deli's counter. He surveyed the list of sandwich offerings, and waited for Lilly to critique the menu.

"Hi there, let me know when you're ready," the older woman, who must have been Dot, said from the other side. She had a plastic spatula in one hand and was elbow deep in a tub of potato salad, her arms covered in plastic gloves as well, a hairnut around her thick red hair.

Oliver just nodded and made a mental note not to get any potato salad. He glanced over at Lilly, but she was staring straight ahead, seemingly right through the menu of items written with dry erase markers on the white board. He gave her a slight nudge with his elbow and she gave him an apologetic smile.

"Could I have the turkey and cheese on wheat?" she asked in her most pleasant voice, the backpack secure on both of her shoulders now. Her stomach grumbled in anticipation, and she realized she hadn't eaten anything since Oliver's mandatory stop for pancakes that morning.

"Sure," Dot agreed evenly, carefully removing her gloves and tossing them in the sink before washing her hands.

"I'll have the same," Oliver called over the sound of the water rushing from the tap.

A older man seated at the far end of the deli glanced up as though he had heard his name called, squinted at the duo, then went back to his chicken noodle soup and his crossword puzzle.

Forty minutes later, the edges of the crust of Lilly's wheat bread was all that was left on her plate. She irritably took a long pull on the straw that was pushed into what was left of her diet coke. It gurgled after only a few seconds and she was quickly sucking in nothing but air. She pushed the cup away and eyed Oliver as he devoured the remains of her bag of chips. Leaning back in her seat, she propped her feet up on the edge of his chair.

"How much longer?" Oliver asked around his last mouthful of potato, a few pieces spraying onto the surface of the table.

Lilly shook her head at the sprayed food and fought down an indulgent smile. "About an hour."

Nodding, Oliver began a stream of steady conversation with her, attempting to take her mind off the wait. He complained about his little brother's obsession with Spiderman, his dad's new singing fish, and the biology lab he would have to do the week they returned to school from spring break. His girlfriend responded at all the proper points, and soon, she found herself actually paying attention to the conversation. When the their wait had almost come to an end, Oliver took a quick look at the in the shape of a cat hanging over the counter.

"Didn't you say you were supposed to work today?" he reminded Lilly.

"Crap! I completely forgot!" She pulled out her cell phone, but frowned at the lack of bars on the top of the viewscreen, holding the device up to the window, then out in front her, then pulling it back, almost to her chest. Nothing. "No service," she whispered, her eyes wide. Oliver pulled hos own phone out, but Lilly put a hand out to stop him. "We're not supposed to use your phone, remember?"

"We just have to be really quick." He carefully pushed the small button on the side and waited for the phone to load. The bars on the top of his screen swept the entire length. Of course, before he could even open his mouth to tell Lilly that, a notification popped up informing him he had five voicemails and a text message. Opening the text message first, Oliver was relieved to let Lilly know, "Miley already called in sick for you." But as he checked his call log, he saw that all five of his voicemails were from his mom. Afraid of what that might mean, he hurriedly shut the phone back off.

"What?" Lilly leaned forward in her seat, trying to see what it was on the phone that had alarmed him so much, but he slid it back in his pocket once the screen went dark.

"Nothing. Just probably shouldn't keep it on for too long, just in case."

"Right." Lilly hopped up from her seat and tossed their garbage, gesturing to Oliver that they needed to go get the car back. She was running out of time.

"Oh, thank you! I love that color!" Standing at the counter with rows of tiny glass bottles holding brightly colored paints, Miley restlessly tapped one foot, her gaze continually straying to her phone. She was starting to get worried. She hadn't heard from Lilly or Oliver, it was getting late, and her retail therapy wasn't working. She brought one hand up to her mouth, chewing on her thumb nail nervously. The sales girl eyed her chipped nails with thinly veiled disdain as she plopped down a few more bottles of various shades of purple.

"We have these lighter shades here as well: lucky lilac, vivacious violet, bruise my ego, purple passion, grape sorbet, and, of course, color me royal." As the young woman spoke, she pointed to each bottle with a French tipped index finger, tapping the tops of them delicately.

Miley already had the darkest shade of purple in front of her, eggplant elegance. She had never exactly thought of an eggplant as being elegant. And when she asked to see the purple, inspired because it was a color she and Lilly both listed amongst their favorites, she hadn't anticipated being shown another half a dozen bottles. She shot a quick look down at her phone again and stifled a sigh. "You know what? I'll just take one of each shade." Miley gave a smile and forked over her credit card as the sales girl brightened considerably.

When she was leaving the store, several small bags from a couple of different stores, and a few vials of perfume samples settled at the bottom of her purse, her phone finally rang, the name Lilly flashing across the view screen.

"Where have you been? In a cave?" She snapped when she held the phone up to her year, her keys almost falling to the ground.

"What? Why would I be in a cave?" Lilly told her, confused. "My phones been being weird. We got a flat tire, and we were stuck in this little car place, and- it doesn't matter. We're on our way now."

"You're on your way home, right?" Miley unlocked her car, already knowing what the answer was going to be.

"No, we haven't even been able to see the historian guy yet. We're still a couple hours away."

"A couple hours?" Miley's voice rose and she tossed the bags into the passenger seat before slumping in the driver's seat. "Lilly, school got out over an hour ago. I'm going to have to go home soon, and I'm not sure what kind of excuses I should make for you if your mom calls."

"Well, she should be thinking that I'm at work for another couple hours. After that... tell her I dropped my phone in the mustard, so it isn't working right, but that we're working on our English project, and I'll be home soon."

Miley could hear the avoiding eyes and the shoulder shrug in Lilly's voice, and it caused her a small groan. "What if she wants to talk to you? I can't fake your mom out with my pretend Lilly voice like I can your boss."

"Tell her I'm in the bathroom or something. I'm feeling sick, remember?"

"Yeah, okay." She stuck her keys in the ignition, but still didn't turn the car over. She thought, something nagging at the back of her mind, reminding her that she had attempted to call her best friends for a reason earlier. "I talked to Lola for a little while after you guys headed out," she began, letting the words out slowly.

"Oh, yeah?" Lilly's voice was slightly curious, but it didn't sound as though she was entirely focused on Miley.

"She told me something interesting." Miley paused, but Lilly didn't say anything in response. "About your mom."

The response was immediate. "What did she say?"

"Well, Lola had asked your mom to find Max, okay?" And Miley told her everything Lola had said. About her thinking that Heather had found something, but that she was hiding it from her. About her worry that Lilly and Oliver wouldn't last. She told her everything.

When Miley was done, Lilly whispered, "she knows something."

"She might not though. She might have just been worried about Lola getting hurt if Max had moved on." Miley rolled her shoulders, feeling the tension that had been there all during her shopping trip tightening her muscles even further.

"I need you to do me a favor."

"What?"

Lilly cleared her throat before saying, "you need to get into my house and check my mom's computer to see if she found Max."

"What?" Miley screeched. "Are you crazy? I can't sneak around on your mom's computer!"

"Well, technically, it's her old one. She upgraded, but she's never got around to reformatting the old one so she can sell it. So, it has all of her old files on it. Anything she had on Lola and Max would be there."

"Lilly!"

"Miley! Please. Pretty please. Pretty, pretty please." Lilly waited, but Miley didn't say anything so she took a breath and started over.

"Okay! Fine! I'll go over to your house and check. But only because your mom probably isn't home from work yet." She started the car and put it in gear. "Oh, and, just to let you know, I hid some emergency cash in the back of the photo album."

"Emergency cash?" Lilly echoed, and the sounds of her rifling through the backpack reached Miley through the phone.

"Yeah. I always carry extra cash in my makeup bag, just in case, and I put it in the album when I went back to the car at the center, just in case anything came up."

"Oh. My. God."

There was a crunching noise, and Miley assumed Lilly dropped the phone. A brief scuffle occurred and a new voice came over the line.

"Miles?" Oliver's voice was a bit strangled. "There's like, two hundred bucks here! We could have taken a plane! Why do you carry this much cash around?"

"What, are you afraid I'm gonna get mugged or something?" Miley rolled her eyes and began heading in the direction of Lilly's neighborhood, her driving awkward with just the one hand on the wheel.

"Something," he agreed.

"I'll call Lilly's phone when I find something, alright? Just, hurry up, and be careful." She hung up the phone before he could answer and put her foot on the gas.

Lilly was still sitting in Lola's car in shock, running the pile of twenty dollar bills through her hands over and over, thumbing through them and counting again just to be sure.

"I can't believe she walks around with that much money just sitting in her makeup bag," Oliver remarked, shaking his head.

"Yeah, well, that's Miley," Lilly said softly, still kind of in a daze.

"Well, hey, at least now we have money if we have to grab dinner," he joked.

"Yeah, or if the muffler falls off or something," Lilly teased him.

"Don't say that. Enough car trouble for one day." He smiled at her as he turned onto a new stretch of highway and asked, "there are only a few more entries left in Lola's book, right?"

"Yeah, there aren't that many pages left, so there can't be too much more to read." She nodded her head and reached into the backpack at her feet, shoving the money into the back of the photo album again. "We can probably get through the rest of them before we get there."

"Awesome. We still haven't read anything in there about Max."

"Yeah, I know. It's kind of weird, right?" Lilly searched through the large pocket, where the journal had been before, but it wasn't there. "What?" she muttered, opening the smaller pocket, then the smallest one, dumping the contents on the floor of the car. There was a small notebook, her day planner, highlighters, pens, makeup, her keys, but no journal.

"What's wrong?" Oliver kept glancing back and forth between her and the road as Lilly's movements became more and more frantic.

"It isn't here!"

"What?"

"It isn't here!" she repeated, unbuckling her seatbelt and turning around to look in the back.

"How can it not be here?" Oliver swerved, narrowly avoiding the concrete siding on the right side of the road when she elbowed him in the shoulder.

"I don't know!" she bit out, throwing aside blankets in the back before facing forward again and reaching her hands underneath the seat. "It just isn't here!" She pulled open the glove compartment as well, but came up empty handed again.

Oliver looked around, making sure there was no one else on the same stretch of pavement, and pulled the car to the side of the road. The two of them searched through everything all over again.

"Okay," he said after they still couldn't find anything. "Last place you saw it?"

"In the car," Lilly snapped, but when Oliver gave her a stern look, she took a breath and said more calmly, "I was reading to you right before we got the flat tire."

"And I pulled over, and we got out to check the trunk. Where'd you put the journal?" he prompted.

"I just set it down in the seat." She covered her face with her hands and let out a growl of frustration. "I left it in here when we walked back. That idiot mechanic must have it."

"Of course," Oliver grumbled, shaking his hair out of his eyes with a little more force than necessary. "Of course. Because in all the horror movies, just when you think the main characters are going to avoid the psycho killer, and that they're actually minor characters, they run into him again."

"Well, we have to get it back," Lilly told him, her voice panicked. "That journal has all of Lola's secrets in it. I can't just leave it with a total stranger!"

"I know," he whispered, his voice calm again. He was already turning the car around.

**A/N: Poor Lilly and Oliver. They just have all kinds of trouble, don't they? Ha. This is actually the shortest of my chapters so far, and mostly dialogue, so I hope it was alright. I don't usually do that. And I've only read it back through once, so let me know if you catch any glaring mistakes. I usually reread and edit a couple times before I post. Next chapter is already started too, so hopefully, it should be up sometime in the middle of next week instead of the end. Hopefully.**


	13. Chapter 13

"Oliver, we're in a sports car. I know you can go faster!" Lilly's finger tips curled anxiously around the door, just where the glass from the window would be if she decided to roll it up.

"Do you want us to get pulled over and slowed down even more?" he shot back.

"Seriously? Have you seen any cops at all today?"

He answered her with a stony silence and pressed his foot a bit more firmly on the gas pedal, but eased off as soon as they passed a sign denoting the speed limit. Lilly tapped the toe of her shoe repeatedly on the floor to show she wasn't amused. They were seriously running out of time to visit Walter. It was nearing the time that she normally got off work, and luckily, Miley was supposed to be picking her up so she could work on their project, so there was no danger of her mother trying to give her a ride home, but it was worrying all the same. There was no way to know what Heather Truscott was doing all the way back home in Malibu, or if Miley would be able to handle her style of interrogation.

"There," Lilly yelped suddenly, pointing to a small road with no sign. "That's the turn off."

"Are you sure?" Oliver asked, slowing the car even further, pausing to peer down the road.

"Yes!" she hissed, rolling her eyes for good measure.

Oliver couldn't see anything, but he didn't want to argue, especially since he had been following Lilly's driving directions since they left Miley and Lola at the gas station that morning. She was the one who had been paying attention to where they were going, not him. He eased the car into the turn, hearing a clank from the back once the turn was completed, and looked suspiciously in the rear view mirror.

"Did something fall off?" he asked Lilly, his voice tight in his throat.

"No, I think you hit the exhaust on that rock back there though." She was twisted around, trying to look out the back window, shielding her eyes from the sun.

"Great," he muttered. "Don't tell Lola, okay?"

"Maybe I should drive when we get the journal back."

Oliver didn't answer her, just stared dead ahead and kept his eyes peeled for Bob's small garage and Dot's deli in the distance. It felt like it took twice as long to get to it as it had to leave it, but they finally pulled into the lot, only to find the garage door pulled down, and the closed sign turned over in the glass door a few feet away.

"He can't be closed," Lilly said forcefully, as though she could will the sign to magically turn to the open side. She hopped out of the car before Oliver even cut the engine and sprinted to the door, cupping one hand up to the tinted glass to look inside. There was no one, not even a three legged dog, to ask her what she was doing.

Biting down on her lip, she turned back to the car, at a loss for what to do next.

"He's really not in there?" Oliver called, standing with his hand propped on the open driver's side door. The glitter in the GTO's paint job was starting to give him a headache. Or maybe it was this whole experience.

Lilly shook her head uneasily, and fought back the tears of panic. What were they supposed to do? Come back tomorrow? She didn't have tomorrow. Tomorrow she would be under house arrest.

"You two leave something here earlier?"

It was Dot, locking the front door of her deli, just on the other side of the lot, that had called to them.

"Uh, yeah, yeah we did. We were hoping we could get it back before we head out of town," Oliver offered.

"Yeah, Robert had to close up early. His mother's real sick. He had to go on home." Dot walked over to her own car, a beat up station wagon with peeling blue paint and questionable tires of its own.

"Do you know how we could get a hold of him?" Oliver went on. "It's really important, and we're in a hurry." He decided it was best not to accuse Bob, or Robert as was apparently his real name, of stealing anything. Dot would only get defensive.

"You'd have to go by his house, I'd imagine." She didn't offer up anymore details, just unlocked her car.

"Well, do you have his number or anything?" Oliver prompted.

"He doesn't believe in phones. His mother thinks that's how the government spies on everyone. She won't have them in her house. And Robert's always taken after her side of the family."

"Good thinking," Lilly muttered under her breath with a roll of her eyes.

"Nah, it's the cable TV she should really be worried about," Oliver informed her. At the look Lilly gave him though, he turned on a shaking smile and said, "kidding?" He focused his attention back to Dot. "Do you know of any way we could get in touch with him then?"

"The garage opens at 7:30 tomorrow morning," Dot called, her face turned away from them.

Lilly's jaw dropped and she shook her head, taking a step forward. Before she could get any words out though, Dot faced them again.

"I live just down the block from them though if you want to follow me back into town. It's about a half hour that way." And she gestured vaguely behind her, the opposite direction from which they needed to travel.

"Great," Lilly said, the sarcasm in her voice thinly veiled as Oliver pulled her back to the car, nodding his thanks at Dot.

"Do you really think it's a good idea to follow her back into their town. We don't know her. Or what the name of the town even is," Oliver whispered. "What if it isn't really a town? What if it's a clearing in the middle of nowhere where they chop us up and barbecue us or something?"

"Okay, seriously," Lilly hissed, "I'm never letting you watch another horror movie ever again."

"Lils, come on!"

"Oliver, I'm not leaving Lola's journal with a complete stranger. We're going to follow that woman, get it back, and get the hell out of here. We are going to see Walter and work on finishing this damn list if it is the last thing I ever get to do before my mother ships me off to military school or something. Got it?" Her tone was fierce and her expression was hard as her eyes bored into Oliver's.

"I got it." His eyes continued to search hers for another minute though, and he added, "first sign of trouble though, we run for it, agreed?"

"Fine, agreed."

Miley eased her car down the street, carefully surveying the neighborhood around her. There were a couple little kids playing in the sprinklers in their front yard, a guy painting his garage door, and that house that was for sale at the end of the block had a realtor and a young couple out front. Mr. Oken's car was parked in the driveway next door to the Truscott house, the lawn mower sitting in the middle of the yard, though it didn't look like anyone was actually using it. She sped up just a little bit, turning the corner and parking in the block behind where Lilly lived.

She shoved her keys and her phone in her back pockets and draped a purple sweater over one arm while she walked. Unfortunately, she didn't have a key and she didn't know where the spare for the back door was. Instead, Miley tiptoed carefully through the side of the house behind Lilly's, then up around her house, avoiding the side that rested up against the Oken's yard. Well, she tiptoed as carefully as she could in a pair of sandals.

After stubbing her toe on a ceramic flower pot, she silently hopped around for a few moments, trying not to scream, before she regained her composure and sneaked onto the front porch. She reached under the windowsill, finding the tiny magnetic box that was wedged underneath it. She popped it open and pulled out the key, then shot a quick glance over her shoulder, not to mention next door, to make sure no one was watching her.

As she unlocked the door and replaced the key, Miley was a little disturbed by how easy it was to get into someone's house when she didn't even live in the neighborhood. No one even blinked an eye, so she walked into the open area just inside the entryway, next to the living room, and locked the door behind her.

It was kind of creepy being in Lilly's house when she wasn't there. She didn't understand how Lilly could house sit for the Stewarts when they went out of town. It was too quiet. Too empty. Miley decided it was better not to linger, so she draped her sweater over the arm of one of the chairs to use as her excuse if she was caught, and headed for the small hallway at the back of the living room. Through the short distance of darkly carpeted floor were two rooms, and one of those was Heather's new office, one she rarely used. Before she converted it, it had been a playroom, and then storage. And from the looks of it when she stepped inside, Heather still preferred to use it as storage.

The shelves on the walls were lined with books of the phases Miley had witnessed Lilly's mother go through. There were a couple of shelves of nothing but cookbooks, all organized by type of cuisine. There was one completely devoted to the use of bacon. Another shelf was full of instructions for designing on a budget, furniture to compliment paint colors, even a book of wallpaper samples. Yet another was history books. There was one on pirates in the seventeenth century. One highlighted the women's movement of the twentieth century. That had been one of Heather's favorite topics for a while.

But a whole section of shelves was obviously devoted to topics related to her job. There was a book completely devoted to ancient beauty rituals. One on the fashion of high heels. Another of lipstick colors through the ages. It was easy to see where Lilly had developed her organizational skills from. Not only was everything organized by topic, but alphabetized by title.

If only the rest of the room, and the desk, was as neat.

"No wonder she never works in here, just sits in the living room," Miley muttered to herself.

She sat down in the desk chair, feeling the back lean on its springs, and she sighed. There were piles of old file folders for ad campaigns scattered on the desk. The top drawer had free samples of products mixed in with pens and paper clips. Underneath a large accordion file and a smattering of CDs was the old laptop though, still plugged in even. Miley set the items to the side and pulled up the screen. She blew a thin layer of dust from the screen (apparently, Heather didn't have the same obsessive need to keep her computer screen clean that Lilly did), and pushed the large circular button at the top and waited.

While she waited for the screen to light up, the house phone rang, startling her so much she almost fell out of the chair. She knew that no one was home, but with each ring of the phone, she tensed, expecting someone to answer. Eventually, the answering machine connected and Heather Truscott could be heard informing whoever was on the line that no one was available to take their call right now, but someone would be in touch at their earliest convenience. Miley's eyes widened at the voice that came over the line next.

"Hello, Mrs. Truscott. This is Mrs. Linton in the front office of Seaview High School. I was just calling to remind you that in order for your daughter Lilly's absence to be excused when she returns to classes after the break, she's going to need a doctor's note for her illness. I hope she's feeling better."

"Oh, crap."

Miley closed her eyes and made a quick wish that Mrs. Linton hadn't called her dad to let him know that she would need a note for missing her first few classes today, but her eyes widened in horror as she realized that she had probably already called the Okens. Mrs. Linton tended to work through students in alphabetical order. They were going to be in so much trouble.

Which meant she couldn't go home until later tonight when Lilly and Oliver got home. She wouldn't be able to keep covering for them if she did because her dad would already know and he would make her do the right thing. She jumped up, jogged into the living room and deleted the message from the machine. Maybe that would buy them a little time.

Probably not much though. Not once Nancy Oken found out her son hadn't been in school.

When she got back to the office, Miley found that the ancient laptop had finally finished loading its programs. But she didn't really know what to look for. Heather's computer files were just labeled with letters, not words. Miley opened the first one at random, designated with a capital letter A. Within the file was a series of subfiles, all containing scans of receipts, mainly restaurants and gas stations. It looked like these were all work related. Heather got reimbursed for business lunches and travel to meet clients.

Clicking through file after file, Miley doubted Lilly's certainty that her mother kept everything on her laptop. There wasn't anything personal. Not until she got to the folder labeled T, and a glance at the clock told Miley she was running out of time. Heather would be home soon.

But T had copies of all the paperwork from Heather's divorce, her address book, and a spreadsheet keeping track of her bills. Heather had way too many credit cards. There was another file folder on the screen within, one labeled with a T and a 2. Miley double clicked, hoping to find something, and she was rewarded with a digital flier advertising a book signing for someone named S. K. Maxwell. There was a list of his books, summaries of all of them.

Tapping one finger on the desk in front of her, Miley thought aloud.

"Okay, Lola said Max was a writer and that he always wrote the same kinds of stories... These are all love stories. Maybe S. K. is actually Max?"

She shook her head. Heather didn't have any personal information about the writer, just information on his books. Which meant she suspected that this writer was Max, but she hadn't proved it. Miley emailed herself the files, then deleted any evidence that she had been on the computer, shutting it down and returning everything to where she had found it, slipping out the back door, and making sure it had locked completely behind her.

When she reached the safety of her car, she turned up the air and began sorting through the summaries of the books through the internet accessed on her phone. She wanted to be sure before she called Lilly. There was always the possibility that Heather had abandoned her search because S. K. wasn't Max.

"I can't believe we're doing this," Oliver whispered.

"Oliver, it's a perfectly normal neighborhood. There're people everywhere. We just have to knock on the door and ask for the journal." Lilly eyed the house in front of them.

"Yeah. Woodsboro was supposed to be a perfectly normal town too before the psychos started killing off all of Sidney's friends." He shook his head and ignored her when she rolled her eyes. She was getting sick of the horror movie references. He had been hitting her with random story lines from some of his favorites on the whole ride over here. "Are we sure this is the right house?"

The shades were drawn and it didn't look like there were any lights on, but there was a truck in the driveway. The same one that had been parked by the tow truck at the garage.

"Yes, we're sure. Dot said it was the mustard colored one. There aren't any other yellow houses on the whole block."

Oliver sighed. "Alright, let's get this over with."

He climbed out of the car in resignation and Lilly followed suit, trying not to laugh at his reluctance. He was really taking this horror movie thing a little too far. Lilly knew he wasn't actually scared anymore. He just didn't want to give up the bit now when he was so invested in it.

It was Lilly who rang the doorbell. She had her hand poised ready to knock, but thought the doorbell would be better, concerned that someone might not hear the knock at the back of the house.

Several beats went by before the door opened and a petite blond woman opened the door, flashlight in hand. "Oh," she said flatly. "I was hoping you were from the power company. We think we blew a fuse."

"That explains the lights... or does it," Oliver remarked under his breath. Lilly answered him by stepping on his foot.

"Um, sorry about your lights. I, uh, don't really know what to do about that. Do you?" She directed the last question at Oliver and he gave a half shrug while edging his foot away from her. "Well... my name is Lilly, and I'm looking for the guy who worked on my car earlier... Bob? I think that's his name." As she spoke, Lilly gestured vaguely to Lola's car sitting on the side of the street and tried to appear apologetic.

"Oh, yeah. Sure. That's probably my brother. Come on in."

Lilly stepped over the threshold to the house, but Oliver hesitated, peering into the unlit hall. He couldn't see much beyond the short beam of light in the woman's hands, so he sighed and followed his girlfriend inside, pulling the door gently closed behind him. The little group walked across scuffed hardwood floors, footsteps echoing all the way, until they found themselves in what could have been the den.

"Robert, these young people are here to see you."

He was still in his greasy coveralls, looking as though he hadn't been home for every long, and he was bent over a small end table, struggling to see in the dark, a series of pill bottles on the surface in front of him, a small penlight in the crook of his arm.

"Who are- Oh, you two. What are you doing here? Is your tire alright?"

"Yeah, the tire's fine," Oliver said shortly. "We're here about something else."

"Okay. What can I do for you?" He popped the top off one of the bottles and tipped a small white tablet into a plastic container.

"You can give me the journal that you took out of the car back," Lilly told him. She crossed her arms over her chest, then uncrossed them quickly. The row of pill bottles unnerved her slightly. And she felt a little guilty to be bothering someone who was obviously caring for a very sick relative. There was a twinge of sympathy, but she pushed it aside. She was here for Lola.

"The what?" Another bottle was uncapped, and another tablet tipped into the container. He counted the pills inside, seemingly satisfied, and turned around.

"The leather bound notebook that was sitting in the front seat of the car!" Lilly snapped.

"Oh! I didn't give that back?" He truly appeared apologetic, and Lilly shook her head, confused. "Sorry. I always take the personal items out of the car if I have to leave it unattended and lock 'em in the safe. I can't believe I forgot about it. There was an earring in there too." He shrugged his shoulders and walked by the teenage pair and headed down the hall. "Give me fifteen minutes and I'll go back to the garage and open the safe for you."

A loud crash from a few rooms away followed his statement, and Oliver quickly said, "yep. No problem. We'll just wait outside."

Once they were out in the driveway, Lilly received her phone call from Miley. She listened intently, body turned away from Oliver, pacing back and forth.

"Okay, okay. Hang on. Let me grab a pen." She hurried back to the car, finding her backpack and the small notebook that had been tossed out to the floor of the car earlier in the day. "Alright, give me the address." She jotted down the information for the upcoming book signing. "Wait a second. This is for this weekend?"

"Uh... yeah. Huh, I guess it is," Miley said off hand.

"But Lola and my mom haven't talked, almost since she first started living at the center... So, she's still looking for Max?" Lilly felt a smile begin to form. Her mom was still a big mush ball, even if she tried to act like solid steel.

"Hey, yeah. You must be right." Miley gave a low whistle of disbelief. "And here I thought she had decided Lola was better off without him."

"We should definitely go to the book signing," Lilly said, leaning against the front end of the car now.

Oliver eyed her cautiously. He wasn't sure he liked her tone of voice. It was the same one that had excitedly suggested a lot of other things over the last few days that had ended up getting them into trouble. He couldn't hear what Miley said next, but Lilly's reply with rolled eyes confirmed his suspicions.

"I know when it is." A pause. "Yes, I know I'm grounded. But I'm sure I can find a way to get there tomorrow afternoon with minimal damage."

Oliver shook his head ruefully. This girl was trying to get him killed.

"You know, this signing isn't that far from where Lola used to live." Lilly thoughtfully tapped her chin with one finger. "I think I've been to this town before, actually. I think Lola's little brother, my uncle Ted, lives there." Lilly returned to her bag again. "I think I have his address in one of Lola's albums." She flicked through the contents, only to find that she was missing one of the photo albums.

Oliver noticed her actions and asked, "did Bob put that in the safe too?" with a slight roll of his eyes.

Lilly ignored him and continued speaking into the phone. "Miles, I need you to do me another favor. I think I left the other album, the one that has letters at the back of it, in the bottom drawer of my desk. Can you get Uncle Ted's address for me?"

"What? Can't you just look it up in a phone book or something?"

Miley's yelp was so loud that even Oliver heard it, and he had to laugh. At least he wasn't the only one worried about getting into trouble.

"He's unlisted."

"But you're mom's gonna be home from work soon!" Miley protested.

"Miley, come on. Please?" Lilly added an extra bit of whine to her question, knowing that was a sure fire way to get Miley to see things her way.

And when Lilly hung the phone up a few minutes later with a smug smile on her face, Oliver knew she had been able to needle their best friend into setting aside her fear of Heather Truscott catching her and going back into the house.

The two of them waited impatiently for their mechanic to be ready to go. It was almost another hour before they were able to get back on the road and head toward their original destination. And they were nearing sunset. Oliver decided it was probably best to not point at that the library, or the history center, or where ever it was the two of them were supposed to meet the seemingly eager to help Walter, would probably be closed long before they rolled into town. He already knew they were going to be in serious trouble. He decided to just roll with it. It wasn't like Heather would call out the National Guard to find him or anything. Though, his mom might have some connections there.

He stepped on the gas.

It was only as she was sneaking back through the neighbor's side yard that Miley realized she hadn't told Lilly about the school's office calling her mom. Although maybe it was better not to worry her right away.

Just when she reached the front of the Truscott house, she noticed that there was a light on in the living room. One that wasn't on before. Sometime in the time since she had crept back to her car and returned to the front of the house, Heather Truscott had come home from work. Miley peeked through the window and waited until she saw Heather head into the back of the house where the office she had been in earlier was located.

Miley reached under the windowsill in front of the living room and peeled the spare key for the front door from its hiding place for the second time that evening, hoping she could sneak in, get the information Lilly needed, and get back out. She had an excuse all prepared in case she got caught though. All she had to do was play it cool. Heather Truscott would never know. She had left her sweater in the living room. She would grab that if Heather caught her.

No problem.

Yeah, right.

There was always a problem. No matter how good the plan was.

Mily unlocked the door as quietly as possible, tiptoeing through the front entrance and up the stairs to Lilly's room after grabbing the sweater. She passed Lilly's little brother in the hall and put a finger to her lips, begging him with her eyes to be quiet. He shrugged and continued on to the bathroom.

Where did she say it was? Bottom drawer of the desk, right.

Crossing the room, she dropped to her knees, opened the drawer, which happened to squeak a tad bit, and rifled through the papers, bypassing a stack of notes that had been passed back and forth between her two best friends during history. She definitely did not need to read those. She was pretty sure she would be scarred for life. It was bad enough that she witnessed them making out on a regular basis. She had no intention of finding out what else went on between the two of them, especially since a quick glance at one of the slips of paper said something that included the words tongue and hot in Oliver's handwriting. There was no need to see the rest of it.

"Ha. There you are," Miley muttered, pulling out the red book from the bottom of the drawer. She flipped hurriedly though the pages, not wanting to push her luck by taking it with her, and found the page Lilly had asked her about. She sent off a quick text message with the information her friend requested and slid the book back into place. It might be a good idea to take it with her, just in case Lilly needed it again. But she didn't think she could smuggle it out if Heather caught her.

A swift glance out the bedroom door let her know that Heather Truscott was not in the hallway, so she quickly made her way back downstairs, unfortunately tripping on the bottom step and flying headfirst into the back of the couch when she tried to right herself.

**A/N: Well? What do you think? Good? Bad? Too long between chapters? I'm sorry. I've had to baby sit the last couple of days, and I will all this weekend as well. Not as much time to write when you're doing arts and crafts projects with kids. We're tie-dying tomorrow. Wish me luck. This could either go very well, or very badly.  
**


	14. Chapter 14

Sparkling in the circle of light provided by the street lamp on the side of the road, the small silver hoop with a single pearl dangling from the center was held fast between Lilly's thumb and forefinger. She had been staring at it since they had retrieved Lola's journal from the mechanic's safe, thinking it would give her some sort of clue about its owner.

So far, nothing.

"Maybe it belonged to whoever Lola won the car from," Oliver offered, turning on to a new street and leaving the orange glow of the street light behind.

"Maybe." She eyed it again before tossing it into the unused ash tray. "It could be Lola's though. She's always had a thing for pearls. She thinks they're classy." She waited for Oliver to respond, but he didn't say anything, so she let her eyelids fall shut as she leaned back against the seat.

A few minutes went by before Oliver made the obvious statement. "So, uh, the sun's down."

"Yeah."

"It's getting kind of late."

"Yep."

"Don't you think we should-"

"We're doing this, Oliver. I'm not going home until we find this guy."

He wasn't sure if she was talking about the wannabe film historian or if she was talking about the love of Lola's life, and he was too afraid to ask. Lilly's phone rang, preventing him from trying to come up with a response anyway, so he just kept driving.

Lilly glanced at the screen, made a face, and shoved the phone down into her pocket, turning off the ringer.

"I thought you were gonna let me drive." Her tone was neutral.

"I thought you wanted to drive on the way back," he quipped.

He wanted to ask who called, but since he hadn't offered up that his mom had called several times earlier before he shut his phone back off, he figured it was better not to ask.

Lilly sighed and glanced out the window, seeing nothing but darkness and a neon sign up ahead for a doughnut place. She waited for Oliver to see it, knowing what would be coming.

"You hungry?"

"Somehow I don't think doughnuts are a great idea for dinner." She rolled her eyes as he ignored her thinly veiled protest and turned off the road.

"I thought this was a no-parents trip," Oliver joked.

"I just don't want you going into a sugar coma."

"I'll be fine. The sign says they have breakfast platters. I'll get scrambled eggs."

And he did. While he ate his eggs and bacon, even sipping a glass of orange juice, Lilly chewed on cubes of fruit from a mixed bowl. She took a sip from a cup of ice water, and internally debated the merits of a cup of coffee.

"How many more entries in the journal?" Oliver asked, and edge of crispy meat crunching between his teeth.

"Only a couple." She speared a piece of strawberry, not pulling the notebook from her bag, even though Oliver continued to eye her. "What? I don't want to risk losing it again!"

"Miley Stewart, plant your behind on that couch."

"But, but, I was just picking up my sweater." Miley gestured to the purple loose fitting sweater with big black buttons she had draped over her arm. She had managed to get to her feet moments before Heather entered the living room to see what the loud crash had been.

Heather Truscott simply pointed to the couch with a fierce expression on her face.

"Where is my daughter?"

"I-I d-don't know Mrs. Truscott." Miley shook her head as she stuttered out the words, her eyes wide, but the innocent act didn't fool Heather for a second. Miley wasn't even as convincing as her own daughter tried to be.

"She and Oliver have been gone since this morning and no one seems to know where they are. It's getting late. You are their best friend. I know that you know where they are."

Heather measured the words evenly, but the fury was radiating from her eyes, so Miley gave up, taking a few steps back toward the couch.

Remembering that her best friend had not wanted to tell her mom just what it was they were doing, Miley settled for, "they just, they just uh, needed to get away. Sometimes, you know, you just have to get away for a while. I mean, it's only one day, and right before spring break. It's not like they missed anything. Todd skips it every year to spend the day surfing with his dad." Heather's face was stone, so Miley tried again. "It's just with everything going on, work, school, all of it, they just thought they'd, um, you know, blow off some steam. I'm sure they'll be back soon."

Those were apparently not the best words she could have used because Heather started pacing the living room, her arms thrown in the air as she spoke.

"Oh, my god, she's blowing- oh, god, I can't even think about that right now."

With the shrill voice and the expansive hand gestures, Miley finally saw the real resemblance between mother and daughter.

"No! I didn't mean it like that!"

She tried to explain, but Heather wasn't hearing any of it. She whirled on Miley so quickly that the teenage girl stumbled back, her legs colliding into the arm of the couch, and she froze.

"For all I know my only daughter could be running to Vegas for a wedding at the Elvis chapel right now, and you-" Heather stopped, clearly unable to go on, and she tried to compose herself.

Vegas? Miley sucked in a deep breath. There was no way her two best friends would have just run off to Vegas. Lilly had said they were headed north. Lola's home town was north. Las Vegas was east. Lilly would never, would she? Heather's panic and paranoia was rolling off of her in waves, and Miley's pores were soaking it up.

"I have tried calling my daughter four times since I got the first call from the school today. She either turned her phone off or she's ignoring me because my calls keep going straight in to voice mail. You are her best friend, so I know she will call you at some point. You are staying right here until she calls you, and then I am taking your phone so my daughter and I can have a little talk."

Miley plopped down, swallowing hard, looking as though her lunch was going to come back up any minute. She had no idea how this had happened, but she knew her friends were in serious trouble. Okay, so she knew how this happened. She did, after all, have a hand in it. She had several bags of new cosmetics in the car to account for the guilt.

Lilly groaned as Oliver had to turn the car around yet again because he had missed another turn, and she pulled her phone back out. It was like breakfast for dinner had scrambled his brain. At this rate, she was going to be asking Miley to cover for her for the next three days. She had never met anyone with such a horrible sense of direction. Well, that wasn't true. Both of her parents could get lost in parking garages, so she knew her own sense of direction wasn't all that great, but at least she could read a map. She pushed the second selection on her speed dial, since the first was currently in the driver's seat, and waited for the phone to connect. When it did, she started in right away.

"Miley, Oliver just went twenty minutes out of the way for like, the third time, so please, please, please, stall for me for a little longer, then say that I called you and I'm spending the night at your place or something. Please! I will seriously love you forever. Even more than I do already." Lilly laughed a bit when she finished and Oliver shook his head in the driver's seat, sick of having to make U-turns.

"Lillian Truscott, are you okay?" hissed the voice at the other end of the phone. And the voice was most definitely not that of Miley.

"Mom!" Lilly shrieked into the phone, causing Oliver to slam on the breaks and look around the expanse of desert road, thinking he was about to run Heather Truscott over or something. When he realized Lilly was shrieking into her phone and not out the window, Oliver breathed a sigh of relief and continued driving.

"Yes, this is your mother. I confiscated Miley's phone. Did you think you could skip all of your classes and the school wouldn't contact me? Or the Okens?" Heather was pacing in her living room miles and miles away while Miley sat on the couch with a pillow on her lap. "A stomach bug? Really?"

"Mom, it wasn't-" But Heather didn't let her finish.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt or anything?"

"Yes, mom, I'm fine. Really. I just-"

"Because I could just kill you right now! You are sixteen years old. You cannot just take off whenever you want to!" Heather stopped pacing her carpet, standing in front of a picture of Lilly from the fifth grade. "You're just a baby…" she trailed off.

"Mom, I'm not a baby," Lilly protested, trying again to explain, "Oliver and I-"

"That boy! Where are you?"

"On a highway."

"Lilly!"

"Still in California?"

"Is he there?"

"Mom. We're just working on a project for school."

"Right. I'm sure a teacher told you to skip class and run away."

"I didn't run away! I just-"

"Is he with you?" Heather demanded.

"Yeah, of course," Lilly answered, "but-"

"Put him on the phone."

Lilly's eyes were wide and she threw a worried look in Oliver's direction. He was glancing back and forth between her and the road, and she really would rather he be focusing on the road right now. "I don't know if that's a good-"

"Now, Lillian. I want to talk to him." Heather tried to keep her voice even and controlled, but she was in a full blown panic mode. Her daughter, her little girl, was on the open road somewhere with a teenage boy who she was sure would not be able to keep his hormones under control over night with no parental supervision.

Lilly covered the mouthpiece on her cell phone and hissed, "she wants to talk to you."

"What? No!" Oliver whispered, afraid Heather would hear him. Lilly tried to hand him the phone, but he pushed it away with one hand, the other gripping the wheel. She again shoved the phone toward his ear, no longer covering it, and he whispered, "are you crazy?" and batted it away, the car swerving a little over the yellow line down the middle of the lane.

"She can't kill you through the phone. Just take it." And with that Lilly had the phone pressed against his ear.

Oliver's hand settled on it reluctantly, and he mumbled, "hi, Mrs. Truscott."

"Don't you 'hi' me, Oliver. You listen, and you listen good. If anything happens to my daughter, I will find you and I will bury you. Do you understand?" Heather didn't give him a chance to respond, continuing, "I don't know what you two are doing, and I probably don't want to know what you two are doing, but there better not be a hair out of place when she gets back here. There will be no matching tattoos. There will be no bar room brawls. In fact, there better not be any bars at all. No drugs. No drinking. Nothing. There will be no piercing any body parts that she can't show in polite company. There will be no marriage certificates. And under no circumstances will there be any sex, and I mean of any kind. Do I make myself clear?"

On the couch Miley giggled, but Heather silenced her with a glare.

Oliver grit his teeth on the other side of the phone. Did Heather Truscott really think he would do anything to hurt her daughter? Really? Did she know him at all? Okay, so maybe they had been caught in a few compromising positions lately, but still. He forced the words "yes ma'am" from his mouth.

"Good. Because if I find out that you had sex with my daughter during this little road trip, or anything else goes on that I don't approve of, I will kill you. I don't care that your mom is a detective." Heather took a deep breath now that she had all of that out of her system, then added, "Keep an eye on her and make sure she has a good time. I don't want her coming home crying either. And call me if you need bail money. Your mother would have a coronary." Then she hung up the phone, seemingly without another thought on the matter.

Miley watched in stunned silence when Heather set the phone on the coffee table. The normally calm and collected and perfectly presentable women had smeared her eyeliner and mascara all under her eyes, her hair in complete disarray, and she muttered to herself, "I need a drink," as she went to the kitchen, leaving Miley on the couch on her own.

"So... if your mom knows, then my mom probably knows, right?" Oliver asked.

They had finally made it to their destination, only to discover that Oliver's suspicions about the center being closed were right. It was a tiny little building, looked like someone's house, and the sign on the front door said that the building wouldn't reopen until nine o'clock the next morning.

"Right." Lilly said the word softly, not wanting him to freak out on the outside as much as she was freaking out on the inside. If Nancy Oken had any idea where they were, they would be in serious trouble. Visions of flashing lights, handcuffs, and the sound of sirens filtered through her brain.

"Oh my god." Oliver let out a low groan and leaned his head against the steering wheel. He had cut the engine as soon as they pulled into the parking lot, having driven the entire rest of the trip since Heather's phone call in almost complete silence. It was like the phone call had made him too nervous even to speak.

Lilly patted his shoulder awkwardly, then gave a small sigh and climbed out of the car. She balanced on the edge of the curb and surveyed the building in front of her, hoping to find some sort of clue to what she would find inside. Biting her lip, her eyes searched the door, then the small windows. But, blinds were drawn, locks were in place. It was completely nondescript. Nothing said anything to her. She heard the creak of one of the door hinges on the car behind her, and footsteps approached.

"We can't just hang out in the parking lot all night," Oliver remarked, clearing his throat. "We could get in trouble for loitering." He seemed to have recovered rather quickly from the miniature breakdown he had been facing in the car.

Lilly rocked forward on her toes, then spun around to face him. "We're not going home."

"I didn't say we had to go home," he snapped. Her eyes widened at his tone and he winced. "Sorry." He paused, collecting himself before he told her, "there's a hotel where we came into town... unless you want to sleep in the car." She didn't say anything, so he added, "you need to sleep." He swallowed hard and stared at a sprinkling of stars in the sky before looking back in her direction.

"Okay," she said in a small voice.

Their eyes met, and he quickly darted his gaze away. Lilly had heard most of her mother's speech to him, and she knew what he was thinking. Though it hadn't been on Heather's list of don'ts, she was pretty sure them checking into a hotel wasn't Heather-approved. But, she was also sure her mom wouldn't want them wandering around a small town into the wee hours of the morning either. This was what would normally be referred to as a lose-lose situation. Every muscle in her body tensed in trepidation as they got back into the car.

She kept her focus firmly out the window, choosing not to think about the fact that she was going to be spending an unsupervised night with her boyfriend. That was not where her thoughts needed to wander right now. Instead, Lilly eyed buildings, looking for stores that were open, but the only things they passed with lights on were a bowling alley, a Wal-Mart, and a cheap motel that looked like it had seen better days. Everything else was already closed up for the night.

Oliver must have noticed the same thing, because he spoke into the silence. "I guess small towns really do shut down with the sunset, huh?"

"Yeah... guess so." Lilly swallowed uncomfortably, not knowing what else to say, but she was saved a few minutes later when they pulled into the lot of the hotel Oliver had seen earlier.

She climbed out of the car with him for what felt like the millionth time that day and walked across the pavement of yet another parking lot. Shouldering her backpack, she wondered how people could stand long road trips. It had to get kind of monotonous. Not to mention the repeated getting in and out of the car was getting really old.

Maybe Oliver was right. She did need some sleep. She was starting to get cranky.

It was all because of that nagging at the back of her mind that told her that their parents knew they were on the road somewhere. She guessed she had to take a little comfort in the fact that Oliver's phone was off, so his mom couldn't track them. And they weren't in a car either of their family's would know about, so there was no chance of someone putting out any kind of alert for their vehicle either. Those ideas were pretty small kernels of comfort right now though.

At least she could look forward to a night in a nice, clean room, with a bed and sheets, not to mention a shower, and she wasn't going to have to sleep in the uncomfortable backseat of Lola's car.

"I'm sorry, we're all booked up," the woman at the check-in counter told Oliver with a pleasant smile on her face.

"What?" Lilly asked sharply. That was most definitely not what she wanted to hear right now.

"We have no double rooms available. There's a dental conference in the city, and we're all booked up with conference members." She smiled again, her lips stretching thinly across bleached teeth. It was almost painful to look at.

"We don't need a double room," Lilly snapped, making sure she didn't look at Oliver as she said it.

She knew he had been trying to do the right thing, asking for two beds, but really, it was ridiculous. It wasn't like they hadn't slept in the same bed before. They could manage to do that without mauling each other. Probably.

"Oh, I'm afraid you've misunderstood. It's not that we're out of just the double rooms. We are at maximum occupancy." That thin smile was still on her face, but now there was a frown in her eyes to answer Lilly's glare.

Oliver reached out, placing a calming hand on Lilly's elbow and cleared his throat. He was beginning to think he might be catching a cold or something. "Are there any other hotels nearby?"

"Nothing in town. And definitely nothing in the surrounding towns that would have any rooms available. Like I said, there's a convention. You really should have called ahead." The smile was starting to slip, wrinkles appearing on the woman's forehead.

"Yeah, I'll remember that the next time I decide to go on a hunt for family secrets," Lilly muttered under her breath, the expression on her face becoming more and more hostile, patience wearing thin.

"There is, however, the Starlight Motel just a few minutes down the road. They have a pool." There was a slight sneer to her face as she turned and began helping a guest of the hotel who must have called ahead because Lilly couldn't imagine anyone working in Dentistry who would let their teeth become quite that yellow or chipped.

Oliver led her by the crook of the arm before she could make any rude retorts, and they were back in the car, driving back the way they came.

The Starlight Motel didn't even deserve to be referred to as a motel. Motel was a kind word for dilapidated dump. Half of the check-in desk had fallen away, wallpaper was peeling from the walls, the carpet was threadbare, even the potted plants looked as though they were reaching for the doorway to escape.

Lilly wrinkled her nose in distaste as she surveyed the lobby, wishing for tiled floors and housekeeping staff that used lemon scented cleaning products. She'd even be okay with snooty employees if it meant the room didn't smell like moldy cheese.

"Need a room?" The woman at the desk was doing a crossword puzzle, bright purple lipstick smeared across her mouth, frizzy hair shooting out from the edges of a wide cloth headband, and she didn't even look up when they walked inside.

"Uh, yes. Please. We'd like-"

She cut Oliver off with, "the honeymoon suite's available. It's the best room in the place, at a steal of only thirty-five bucks a night. It includes free cable and wireless internet."

Lilly didn't even wait for Oliver to think it over. If it was supposed to be the best room in the place, it should at least be the cleanest, right? "We'll take it."

"Here's the keys." She plucked an envelope containing electronic key cards from under the desk, still without looking, gaze glued to her crossword puzzle. "There's only two of them. Don't lose them. The room's the last one on the second floor. Checkout's at eleven in the morning. You pay when you leave. If you can't pay, I'll call the cops. Enjoy your stay."

Oliver gingerly picked up the keys and exited the lobby to find the stairs. He didn't bother thanking the woman. There didn't seem to be a point to that. She didn't look like she particularly cared anyway.

Just around the corner of the outer wall of the lobby were the stairs. They were metal, winding up and around the small kidney shaped pool that was covered in leaves. He walked down the open corridor of the second story to find this suite the woman had told them about, Lilly trailing cautiously behind him, trying not to notice that the metal railing along the edge was almost completely rusted through in some parts. This place was a death trap.

The last door in the row of rooms didn't look any bigger than the other rooms from the outside. It had the same square window next to the same green door. Oliver inserted a key card into the slot above the door handle, doubting the ability for a place like this to use electronic locks, and was surprised to see a green light flash, granting him entrance.

He pushed the door open slowly, partly because he wasn't sure what he would find, partly because the bottom of the door seemed to be catching on the carpet, and thought better of blindly searching for a light. Instead, he held the door open for Lilly, allowing the light from the lamps in the parking lot behind them to fill the room. It barely had enough space for the table, two chairs, queen sized bed, television, and lamp inside. And the "honeymoon" of the small room was demonstrated in its bright red bedspread and a complimentary bowl of condoms on the night stand.

After turning the lamp on, Lilly said loudly and without preamble, "if I have to sleep here, we're going shopping." She paused, her eyes jumping from the night stand to Oliver. "For disinfectant and new sheets."

"Done," he agreed, moving to let her back out through the door.

**A/N: I have no idea why it took me so long to write this chapter. (Although, to be fair here, I only post new chapters/stories when I'm at the library, and I haven't been to the library in a few days.) You don't really learn anything new about Lola, and I had parts of it written for a while now. I just couldn't sit still to write for a long stretch of time to fit it all together. So, I apologize if this one seems a little disjointed. But hey, day one of this little trip is almost over now (even though it took about five chapters to get through it). You'll get to meet Walter next time and see what (if anything) he knows about Lola and the people on her list. Also, Nancy Oken might pop up in some form. Ha.**


	15. Chapter 15

_Thirty-seven._

_Thirty-eight._

_Thirty-nine._

Okay, so this whole counting sheep thing really didn't work. No matter how much fluffy fur and cute little baah-ing you allowed to prance around in your head. It was a myth. Nobody ever told you that laying in a bed next to your boyfriend after scrubbing a hotel room from top to bottom wasn't conducive to sleep, especially not when you had to use the shower before going to bed while he was flicking through channels on the crappy TV in the room outside the door. It didn't matter how many sheep you tried to count once you laid down. It just didn't.

Lilly's eyes popped open and she stared hard at the ceiling. Well, she tried to stare at the ceiling. Oliver had made her take her contacts out before they went to bed, telling her he didn't want her eyes to be dried shut when they had to get up in the morning. Now, all she saw was a dim blur. She knew there was a popcorn paint job. Little bits of paint hanging down from the flat surface. And she knew there was a deep crack in the paint right above her head, stretching halfway across the room. But at least she was sure that the sheets were clean and the air was working. You know, after kicking the unit a couple of times until it clicked on. And there had been hot water in the shower. For a whole five minutes. The cold shower had probably been good for her anyway.

She tried to hold it back, but she couldn't. A long, loud, sigh escaped, and she froze. She hadn't wanted to disturb Oliver. But he didn't stir. Her muscles were coiled, ready to jump up and away at a moment's notice while she lay there on her back. He, on the other hand, was flat on his stomach, sprawled on his half of the bed in his boxers and tee shirt, the sheets tangled around him. One hand was resting under his cheek, the other was resting lightly on her stomach. She didn't even have to look over at him to know what he looked like. Hair tousled across his face, muscles completely relaxed, his face peaceful.

Not that she would be able to see him anyway.

Taking a slow breath, Lilly reached over for the nightstand, fingers searching for her emergency glasses in the dark, the ones that had been tucked away in a small pocket of her backpack for most of the school year. As Oliver shifted in his sleep, she held her breath. When she felt the thick plastic against her skin, she hooked a finger around the edge and brought the frames up to her face. If she was going to be awake, she might as well be able to see. Settling back against the lumpy pillow, Lilly reflected on her day.

The reflection didn't really bode well for her sanity.

She had skipped school. And gotten her best friends to do the same. And their parents knew. She had, essentially, run away from home for the day. With her boyfriend. And she was spending the night with him. In a motel room. In underwear and a tee shirt. And they hadn't even made any real progress yet. Other than her best friend breaking into her mother's computer to find information.

Lilly sighed again.

On the bright side, things could only go up from here, right?

Her eyes ran along the crack in the ceiling, following it from end to end, and thought about the last three entries of the journal that she had read with Oliver before they had decided to go to sleep. She had read about the day her father was born, and how much Lola regretted not having any children of her own. That was followed by Lola's brief time in Mississippi. She had joined a group of "artists" who had decided to drive to the south for the summer, and ended up getting arrested for helping to incite a riot. Crazy.

Of course, the last entry had been about Max, just like Miley said it would. It was full of almost the same information that she had recorded Lola telling them. Except for one small detail.

One of Lola's previous entries had told them that the first time she spent the night with a guy, it had been with someone she was sure she would spend forever with. Of course it was Max. Really, who else could it be? But Lilly was surprised to see that the first time Lola spent the night with him was actually before he had told her how he felt, before he had asked her to marry him even. They just pretended it never happened and went right back to being friends. Until Lola caught a foul ball at a baseball game and Max's control of his feelings slipped for a second.

Lilly blinked when Oliver shifted again, his leg brushing against hers. Bolts of electricity shot from her leg up to her brain, and she swallowed hard. Maybe counting the little popcorn-like bubbles of paint on the ceiling would calm her down. There had to be thousands of them, maybe even millions. It was a physical thing to focus on. Not like imaginary sheep.

_One._

_Two._

_Three._

Her abdomen tightened when Oliver sighed in his sleep. The thought flitted through her brain that there was a possibility, however tiny, that he could be dreaming of her.

_Four._

_Five._

_Six._

Yeah. This wasn't really working for her.

_Seven._

_Eight._

Oliver rolled on to his side, his hand sliding along her stomach to curl around her side. Lilly clenched her eyes shut at the contact and groaned. Would it be wrong for her to smack him upside the head while he was asleep?

"Are you okay?" Oliver asked, his voice scratchy.

When Lilly looked over at him in surprise, she found him blinking his eyes blearily and trying to stop himself from yawning.

"What?"

"It's three in the morning. Last time I woke up you were awake too."

Lilly rolled onto her side so she could face him, and she gave him a small smile. "Sorry. I just can't sleep."

"Worried about Lola?"

"Yeah..." She hesitated. "And other things." His eyes searched hers, so she decided to elaborate. "Like my mom's reaction once I get home. Or your mom's. Or how much trouble Miley got into. Just... you know, stuff."

"Stuff." Oliver nodded, a few strands of hair falling across his eyes. "Right."

His hand was on her hip now, having shifted when she changed positions, and she tried not to notice that a couple of his fingers were on her bare skin, not her shirt. "Tell me the truth." The words came out softer than she thought they would, so she cleared her throat. "Do you think Walter will be able to help us track down Sandy... or Max?"

"I don't know." He paused, swallowing whatever he had been about to say. Instead, he sighed again, rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling. Lilly managed to successfully keep herself from smiling. He looked as perturbed as she felt. "I hope so..." He brought his hands up to his face, running them over his skin. "But, hey, maybe we'll get lucky at that book signing tomorrow and that guy'll actually be Max."

Lilly sat up and leaned slightly over him, trying to look him in the eye. "I thought you said we were going to see Walter, then going straight home. Less trouble. My mom doesn't kill you. You know."

He gave a slow smile and responded, "I think my mom's already going to kill me anyway. What's it matter." He reached up and tugged gently on her ponytail, bringing her closer.

"Hmm..." Lilly kept a serious expression on her face. "Maybe we should run away permanently, get jobs in a little fishing village in Mexico or something. Have Hannah Montana send us some money when we need it."

Oliver chuckled, one of his hands resting on the small of her back. "Yeah, I'm sure that'll go over real well," he told her, right before he kissed her, fingers clenching the fabric of her shirt. He pulled away sooner than normal though. "We should get some sleep. We want to meet Walter when the place opens."

She nodded, biting down on her lip and wrapping her arms around him. He pulled her glasses from her face and set them back on the night stand. Leaning her head against his chest, she closed her eyes and said, "Hey, Oliver?"

"Hey, Lilly?"

She knew this was usually reserved for their late night phone calls, but she said it anyway. "I love..." She took a breath. "Your boxers. The smiley faces are adorable."

He chuckled quietly, dropping a kiss on top of her head. "Well, I love..." She heard the teasing tone to his voice, and thought he would make a comment on her underwear as well. Instead, he finished with "that new perfume you're wearing. Is it lemony fresh?"

She smacked him lightly in the chest and smiled into his shirt.

"So, what happened?" Miley whispered into her phone.

"What do you mean what happened?" Lilly stage whispered back. She was sitting in the passenger seat of the car in the parking lot of the history center the next morning. Oliver was across the street, getting them some breakfast. Against her better judgment, she had answered the phone when Miley called to chat.

"I mean, you just spent the night with your boyfriend in a hotel room with no parents. What happened?"

Lilly shook her head and gave an eye roll. Of course Miley wanted to know that. "I thought you said you never wanted to know any details about me and Oliver." That had been one of the conditions that were imposed when Lilly and Oliver started dating. No details. Not even little ones. She picked at the fabric on her jeans. They were really going to need to be washed if she and Oliver ended up having to stay here another night.

"I didn't. I mean, I don't. Not really. It's just, I haven't been on a date in forever. I'm living vicariously through you now."

"So, you're vicariously dating Oliver then," Lilly informed her flatly, one of her rings getting caught on a loose thread.

"Ew! Don't say that!"

Lilly gave another eye roll, leaning back in her seat restlessly. She knew she would get that reaction. "Nothing happened. We just slept."

"Seriously?"

"You might not know this, but we don't break the rules all the time." She heard Miley scoff on the other end of the phone. "Didn't you tell me your dad grounded you for helping us skip school?"

"Yes, which is why I'm sneaking in this conversation. I'm grounded until you guys get back from your road trip. Dad somehow thinks that's fair. Plus I have to clean out the refrigerator and the oven. I don't really see how those two fit."

Glancing into the side mirror of the car, Lilly saw a familiar face coming toward the parking space. "I have to go. Oliver's back. I'll text you updates later, okay?"

"Don't leave out any details!" Miley managed to get the words out just before she hung up.

"Hey," Lilly called as she opened the door. Oliver handed her a cup of coffee and she smiled gratefully. "You excited to meet Walter?" she teased.

"Oh, ecstatic." He took a large bite of a blueberry muffin to accentuate his point, and Lilly grabbed one from the bag in his other hand. "I bet he's just dreamy." He took another vicious bite of the pastry.

Lilly giggled around her mouthful of food. Once she swallowed, she remarked, "please don't ever say dreamy again. It was weird."

"Noted." He nodded his head and finished his breakfast in one more easy bite, rolling his shoulders and stretching afterward.

Lilly watched him apprehensively, nibbling on her own breakfast and balancing her coffee cup on the roof of the car. Something was bothering him. She could tell. But she wasn't sure if it was just the whole experience getting to him, or if it was something to do with Walter specifically, so she decided to broach a completely different topic. "How's your blood sugar?"

"It's fine."

"You sure?"

"Yes!"

"When was the last time you checked it?" She knew she sounded like the mother of a four-year-old, but she figured annoying him might be a good idea right now. He'd get it all out of his system before they had to go inside and talk to Walter.

"Before I bought the food," he snapped, turning to survey the street behind them. A few cars went by, but none of them turned into the parking lot. "He's late."

"He'll be here." Lilly paused. "He has to. Somebody has to open this place."

Just as the words left her mouth, the sign in the small glass window at the top of the front door was flipped from "closed" to "open." Lilly smiled triumphantly, locked and shut the car door, and turned to Oliver. He didn't look particularly happy. There hadn't been enough arguing yet, but she didn't want to wait outside any longer. She offered him the half of her pastry that was left to soften his mood. He accepted it with the beginnings of a smile and started walking to the front door. Lilly grabbed her coffee and followed behind him at a slightly slower pace.

Would Walter be able to help her? Did he have anything even remotely related to Lola other than the video he posted online? Well, she hoped so. Otherwise this visit was just going to be a huge waste, wasn't it? And then Oliver would be giving her all of those "I told you so" looks for the rest of the day. He might have said that he hoped Walter could help them too, but she could see the skepticism surfacing in his eyes every so often.

When Oliver pulled the door open, gesturing for Lilly to go ahead of him, she heard the tinkling of a bell attached to the top of the door frame. The room they entered had a few plush arm chairs, a sofa, and what looked like it would have been the top of a bar if this was in a normal house. Since it wasn't, it was lined with a guest book, a street map of the town, and a metal tray of postcards that could be purchased at three for a dollar. Lilly made a mental note to buy one when they left. Lola deserved a post card. Maybe one of those cheesy "thank you for visiting" ones. She'd love it.

"Can I help you?"

The question belonged to a young man in a white button down shirt, his hair disheveled, his slacks wrinkled. Lilly didn't think this could be Walter. He looked like he was about fourteen. His limbs dangled away from his body like he was still growing into them, and when her eyes hit the floor she spotted a pair of sneakers on his feet. Scuffed up and untied. Oh, boy.

"Hi, I'm looking for Walter," she said.

"That's me."

Oliver snorted into his hand and covered it up quickly with a cough. He was lucky he was a foot away from Lilly or she would have been running the heel of her tennis shoe into his shin.

"I'm Lilly. I emailed you about Lola Truscott."

"Oh, right! Of course!" Walter's voice squeaked on the last word, and Lilly's eyes widened in alarm. "I started pulling information out for you when you said you were going to try and get to town... I thought you were going to be here yesterday."

"Yeah... there were some mechanical issues..." Lilly trailed off and met Oliver's eyes. "This is, uh, my boyfriend, Oliver. He's helping me track down Lola's information."

"Nice to meet you both."

Walter offered his hand to each of them in turn to shake. Lilly discreetly wiped her palm on her jeans as he turned away to lead them to the back of the building. She had a feeling Walter didn't often get many visitors to the history center. He was way too nervous.

"So," Oliver remarked casually, "we were waiting out front for the place to open, but I didn't see you drive up."

"Oh, I live in an apartment out back. If this was still a private residence, it would have been the guest house." He gestured vaguely with one hand, his fingers shaking slightly.

Oliver nodded his head, even though the other boy couldn't see him, and Lilly breathed a sigh of relief. Walter was harmless. There was no reason for her friends to be worried, and even less of one for Oliver to be worried about her. Nothing at all to worry about.

Of course, two hours later, they hadn't really learned anything new. Most of the items Walter had pulled were just old newspaper articles of events that had happened in town. All printed on these weird plates that were put into this even weirder machine to read them. Nothing all that interesting either. Lola had won a bunch of talent shows. Wedding announcement for Lola's older sister, and one for her younger brother as well. A big write up on the car accident that had killed her brother's wife. Another announcement when Lola's sister won a contest at a local fair. After going through what felt like hundreds of articles, Lilly was sure her eyes were going to be permanently crossed, or at least squinted from the dim lighting and the tiny print.

"Did you still want to go to that book signing?" Oliver muttered when Walter had come through asking them how they were doing for the seventh time before he rushed off to answer the phone.

"Yeah... I guess we need to leave soon, huh?"Lilly scanned another page with her eyes, but she was getting a headache, so she turned in the wooden chair, bracing her hands on the backrest and cracking the air bubbles that were in her spine. It didn't relax her. She wondered if this was a waste. But there was a whole other stack of plates Walter had brought for them to go through...

"We can always come back after the signing if we need to," Oliver informed her, sensing where her mind was headed.

"Alright, let's head out. I've got directions to the signing." Lilly pushed her chair back, the legs scraping along the floor with a sharp groan, and she grabbed Oliver's hand, pulling him along toward the door.

Oliver had to stifle a smile as he told Walter they'd have to leave for a while, but that they might be back later to examine the rest of the articles. Walter looked back at the room apprehensively. A look around the rest of the facilities proved that Walter liked to put everything back immediately upon using it. Nothing was out of place. Leaving the items out for them to possibly use them later was probably going to drive him crazy.

Probably not as crazy as Lilly was going to drive Oliver though.

Once they made it to the bookstore, the one with a line of middle aged women around the block, Lilly was hesitant to even get in line. She stood in the parking lot while Oliver went inside and browsed the selection of books by S. K. Maxwell before the guy showed up. He read the summaries. Lilly paced. He selected two that sounded like they would be right up his girlfriend's alley while Lilly carefully balanced on the curb, walking heel to toe as though on a gymnastics beam. Oliver purchased the two books and joined her in the parking lot. She counted the number of women who were chattering excitedly in the long line.

They were all made up from head to toe in some of the most ridiculous makeup. Some of the women were even standing in line in spiked heels. And the way they kept shifting their weight indicated they had probably been standing in line for a while already.

"Come on," Oliver whispered insistently, "let's get in line." Lilly didn't answer, but her eyes widened when she saw a woman get at the back of the line who was wearing the same polka dotted dress she had seen Lola wear a week ago. The woman had a string of pearls at her neck and a pair of black flats on as well. She wasn't nearly as old as Lola, and Lilly probably would have chalked it up to coincidence if she didn't spot someone near the front of the line who was her mother's age in almost the same exact outfit as well.

"Do you see that?" she hissed at Oliver.

"What?" he tried to play dumb. As a guy, he was never supposed to notice clothing. He did, but he always liked to pretend that he didn't. As Lilly gestured helplessly, Oliver steered her toward the back of the line.

"But- that dress. You see it too, right?" She looked up at him, two bright spots of color in her cheeks, her mouth hanging open in disbelief.

"Here," Oliver said as way of explanation, "take a look at this book."

He handed her a thick paperback novel with a bright green cover. The front depicted a young woman in a similar polka dotted dress, her hair up in a high pony tail, a string of pearls around her neck, and bright red lipstick across her mouth. She was sitting on front porch steps staring out into the distance, her feet bare.

"She's a character in one of his books?" Lilly whispered. "Well, it has to be him then, right?"

"Well, yeah... maybe." Oliver paused, not wanting to get her hopes up in case he was wrong. "It could just be a coincidence. This girl could just have a similar style to Lola." He shrugged and gestured to the book again.

Lilly started reading, but the young woman who got in line behind them interrupted her.

"That one is my absolute favorite!" She chirped. "S. K. is my mom's favorite, and I never thought I would like his cheesy romance novels, but they're so fun!"

Lilly nodded her head, her eyes glued to the page, not wanting to start up a conversation about how good of a writer this guy was. She could see from the first two pages that his main character, who's name happened to be Laney, looked exactly like Lola did fifty years ago. He even made special mention of her pearls, a family heirloom, and her arm, which was strong, but she didn't have good aim, so she preferred watching sports instead of playing them. Laney was Lola. It was too much of a coincidence.

"So, have you ever read any of his books?" the new addition to the line asked Oliver, since Lilly wasn't being very responsive, her black bob swishing around her chin as she whipped her head around.

"Uh, no. Can't say that I have. I'm just here to get an autograph for my girlfriend's aunt. She's a big fan." He stuck his hands in his pockets and nodded nonchalantly. It was probably better not to tell Lilly and Lola's stories to a complete stranger while Lilly was shutting out the world in an attempt to speed read.

"Oh, I see. That's really sweet of you." The girl nodded too, then gestured to herself. "I'm Michelle. It's nice to meet you guys. I'm glad I ended up in line by you guys. Last time I came to one of these I was in line behind these two women who would not stop talking about their emphysema. I just wanted to scream at them that they wouldn't have it if they hadn't been smokers." She shook her head ruefully and Lilly looked up in amusement from the book.

"I'm Lilly," she told her, deciding it was better to be civil. This girl kind of reminded her of Miley. "And he's Oliver. It's nice to meet you too." She hesitated, then asked, "this one's your favorite," holding up the book as she did so.

"Mmm hmmm. It's his newest one. He hasn't put out any books in a few years now, from what I understand. I only recently started reading them, you know? I'm surprised he's doing so many signings. I think that probably means he's going to be releasing a new book soon." She gave a wide smile and pointed at the book, "you just started reading it?"

"Yeah, I wanted to see what it's like, you know, why my, uh, aunt, likes him so much."

"Well, you booked a good one to start with. It's his best. He has such good characters in that one. I mean, the other ones are good too, but I feel like these are real people, you know?" Michelle looked back and forth between the two of them, her hands clasped as she spoke.

"Oh, yeah, totally," Oliver sad flatly.

It was at that moment that Lilly's phone rang, so she smiled an apology and retrieved it from her back pocket. The expression that crossed her face after the brief conversation was one that included panic and fear.

"What's wrong?" Oliver asked as soon as she hung up.

"That was Miley," Lilly said softly. "She said, um, someone we know is also coming to the signing." She cleared her throat at Oliver's questioning eyes. "Someone who carries handcuffs." She scratched an eyebrow and looked away from him, anticipating an explosion of some kind.

"No." His voice was hoarse, but he didn't scream like a little girl or immediately take off for the car.

"Yeah..." Lilly bit down on her lip, noticing that Michelle was very pointedly examining the nail polish on her fingers as though she knew this was meant to be a private conversation. "Apparently, she and Miley had a little talk, and Miley just couldn't hold out."

_One hour earlier._

"Hey, Mile, there's someone here to see you. I'm going for a run. I'll be back in a little bit."

Miley wrinkled her nose up in confusion. Her dad had said no visitors. She was sure of that. That was part of being grounded. So then, why was he going for a jog and letting someone see her? She stripped the yellow rubber gloves from her hands, a sucking sound letting her know how much her hands were really sweating inside them, and slapped them down on the counter, closing the oven shut afterwards. She rinsed her hands in the sink, drying them on a towel, not checking to see who the visitor was until she was done. As she turned, she let out a fearful squeak when she saw who was standing there.

Nancy Oken was wearing fitted jeans, a blue oxford, a pair of pointed high heels, and her holster, not to mention an expression of fierce determination.

"Hi, Mrs. Oken." The words came out as little more than a whisper, and Miley's knees almost gave out.

"Hello, Miley." She walked the rest of the distance from the living room to the kitchen table in three easy strides, the expression on her face never changing. "How are you?"

"Fine. Yep. I'm fine. Just cleanin' the oven." Miley paused, swinging her hands nervously at her sides while she walked around the counter towards her friend's mother. This was going to be bad. She knew it.

"Have you talked to Oliver today?" Mrs. Oken was nonchalant as she pulled out a chair and took a seat.

"Uh, nope. No, I haven't." Lying to her was always difficult, but Miley hadn't technically lied. She hadn't talked to Oliver. He wasn't the one she usually called up to chat anyway. But Nancy Oken probably knew that already.

"Neither have I." She gestured to the seat across from her and Miley hesitantly took a seat.

"Would you like something to drink?" Miley asked before Nancy could go on, hopping to her feet again.

"No, thank you, sweet heart, I'm fine." Nancy let a smile cross her face as Miley dropped back down into her chair. The detective threaded her fingers together, resting her elbows on the table and waited. She watched Miley fidget in her seat, tapping first one foot, then the other, flipping her hair over one shoulder, then playing with the ends of it. She even began chewing on her left thumbnail after giving a tight smile. "You know, I haven't talked to Oliver at all the last couple of days. He hasn't called home at all. His phone's going straight to voice mail. You know anything about that?"

Miley hesitated again. She had a feeling Nancy already knew the answer to that question, so she wasn't entirely sure what to say. "Maybe he has his phone turned off?"

"Yes, that would be my guess as well." Nancy let one of her hands fall to to the surface of the table, one fingernail tapping steadily. "He knows his father and I would be worried if he didn't check in though, so I can't think why he wouldn't have called at all." She paused again and watched Miley swallow nervously. "What about Lilly? Have you talked to her?"

"Umm..." Miley felt the sweat forming on her hairline, at the top of her forehead and the back of her neck. She giggled nervously. "You know, we talk..."

Nancy raised one eyebrow.

"I mean, she told me she was working on our project..." Miley trailed off.

She wasn't supposed to rat Lilly and Oliver out. She was supposed to cover for them. A good friend would be able to cover for them. And she had already gotten Lilly in trouble with her own mother. She couldn't let Oliver get in trouble too. But Heather Truscott and Nancy Oken were neighbors, and kind of friendly. Well, they were more friendly with each other than either of them were with her dad, that was for sure. She didn't think Mrs. Oken liked her dad all that much ever since he got into that argument with Mrs. Truscott about who should pay for their date a couple of years ago. Mrs. Oken was definitely all about female empowerment. You didn't climb your way up in a male dominated field without believing in the power of women, after all.

And she was still watching her, that eyebrow still raised. And the guilt was eating away at her. She didn't want to get them in trouble, but she hated lying. She couldn't do it. Not like this. Not with that woman giving her that look. And she had her handcuffs clipped to the back of her belt like Miley was a criminal or something. And they were sitting at her kitchen table. The overhead light was too bright. Everything smelled like oven cleaner. It was too much.

And it all came tumbling out of her. It was like a giant avalanche of words that rolled faster and faster. The faster they rolled, the more information she gave, but she wasn't sure if she was making any sense.

"We're working on this project and Lilly's great aunt wanted to know where Max was and it's supposed to be solving a mystery and I think Heather knows the truth and there's this book signing and this guy named Walter that Lilly wanted to meet but I didn't think it was a good idea so I called Oliver and we saw Lola and kind of stole her car because she didn't remember who we really were but I went back with her and Oliver went with Lilly and I told him about GPS and there was a tire and a dog with three legs and wrong turns and I had to give her my phone and she freaked out but she told him to keep her daughter safe and make sure she has fun so Lilly's trying to find the guy and Oliver's supposed to be keeping her out of trouble and I feel like a horrible friend because they're doing all the work and I'm stuck here and I'm not supposed to say anything but I had to because you're here and I feel so bad and Oliver's probably just scared of getting in trouble or you putting him in jail or something." It was the most she had ever said without taking a breath, not counting singing on stage, and she found herself panting at the end. Through her watering eyes, Miley saw that Nancy's mouth had dropped open. Her mind was probably dissecting the massive statement to figure out what it was Miley had just said, so she added, in a very small voice, "I'm really sorry," the stinging in her eyes growing stronger.

"Okay," Nancy said slowly. "I'm not sure I got all that, but where are they right now?"

"Probably on their way to the book signing." Miley sighed.

**A/N: Thoughts? At least we made it to the next day, finally. Haha. Also, I am sick again, so I'm not sure how soon the next chapter will be up. It's hard to type when you feel like you're going to hack up part of your lung every few minutes. **


	16. Chapter 16

"Oliver?" Lilly whispered uncertainly. One of her wrists was loped through the bag he had given her earlier that held two books. Her other was twisted back as she awkwardly pulled at one of his arms.

They had been standing in relative silence for about twenty minutes, his arms crossed over his chest as though he was trying to keep his heart from leaping through it. His face was pale, and his eyes were glazed over. For some reason, the threat of trouble hadn't seemed real until Miley's phone call. The one alerting them that his mother was on her way to the very same book store they were waiting outside of.

"Olly?" She tried again, fingers moving insistently between his arms and catching at one of his hands.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," he said hoarsely, his eyes still unfocused.

"It'll be alright. It'll probably take her a couple hours to get here. By then we'll be in and out. No problem."

"Not if she uses the siren," Oliver mumbled, his gaze moving to Lilly for the first time since Miley called them.

"What did you do? Escape from prison or something?" Michelle joked from behind them. She had been watching Lilly try to get a response out of her boyfriend for the last few minutes without interruption, but the reactions of these people she had just met seemed a little extreme.

"No, uh..." Lilly hesitated, searching for words that didn't sound crazy. "It's just, my mom doesn't really like him, and we kind of snuck off for the day yesterday, and we had some car trouble, so it turned into two..." She trailed off, seeing that Michelle still didn't get what the big deal was. "His mom's a cop," she finished lamely.

"Oh. Gotcha." Michelle nodded her head in understanding. She didn't say anything for a few minutes, her eyes going back and forth from the building to the couple in front of her. "Come with me."

"What? But what abou-" Lilly didn't get to finish because the other girl was pulling her along, and Lilly had a grip on Oliver, so he was coming too.

"We'll lose our spot in line," Oliver protested weakly, already looking over his shoulder for long brown hair and a police issue weapon. It was best to be vigilant.

"You don't need a spot in line," Michelle whispered, furtively glancing around before she led them through a door near the loading dock at the back of the store. "Just stay close." They passed pallets of boxes that no doubt contained new releases, and walked through a heavy set of double doors where a man with a clipboard was checking items from a list. She led them down a hallway and through another set of doors. "We aren't supposed to use our employee status for special treatment with the authors. That's why I got in line. But... let's just say I know what it's like to get in trouble with your boyfriend's mom."

"You work here?" Lilly asked incredulously.

"Yep."

"But-" Michelle was no longer pulling her along and Oliver seemed to have relaxed somewhat now that they were in air conditioning and the imminent threat of Nancy Oken had abated.

"Like I said, we aren't supposed to try for special treatment. But I think I can help you out." They walked through a final set of doors and Michelle gestured to the cafe inside. "Sit. I'll be right back."

"What do you think she's gonna do?" Lilly asked Oliver in a hushed tone.

"Get you an autograph?" He hunched forward in his seat, letting his hair fall across his face to hide his features, then peered cautiously around the store.

Lilly scooted her chair closer to him. "But we're supposed to talk to him. Figure out if he really is-"

"Lilly, you really think all the similarities in his book and in Lola's life are a coincidence?" There was a pause where Lilly looked at the surface of the table where they were sitting and Oliver looked at her. "Why do I get the feeling that there's something you're not telling me?"

Lilly bit down hard on her lip and looked away, her eyes wide. "We-el-" she started, but he cut her off.

"Lils? What?" His tone was more forceful than it had been in a while. Oliver hadn't been more than a little annoyed with her in a long time, so it had been quite a while since she had heard that particular tone of voice from him. She didn't like it.

"When I first started reading Lola's journal I was afraid that the stories might not be real," she let out in a rush, her cheeks heating up.

"What are you talking about?" A crease appeared in the middle of his forehead while he tried to focus on what she was telling him and not the fear that his mother could jump out from behind a potted plant at any minute.

"Before Miley and I got the photo albums and saw that the people were real, I thought the stories in her journal might just have been... I don't know, Lola getting confused or something, okay?" A frown pulled at the corners of her mouth and she drew a picture with her finger tip on the table. "What if Max is just her being confused? What if she's read the books or something, but her stories aren't real?" Lilly swallowed, meeting Oliver's eyes.

He gave a strangled sigh and shut his eyes for a second. This whole thing could have been a wild goose chase, and Lilly was telling him this now? And yet... "No, it has to be real," Oliver told her firmly. "You said yourself, it was before you saw the pictures in the albums, and there was a picture of Max, remember?"

"Yeah, there were a couple. But what if she's confused about what happened? What if Max didn't propose to her or something? What if Max didn't even love her? What if Lola's wrong? What if he's married with a family? Or what if... I don't know, something else bad?" The pitch of Lilly's voice got progressively higher as she asked each question, and her eyes were wider every time her voice squeaked.

"Calm down," Oliver commanded, hands bracing on her shoulders to steady her.

"Right." She took a deep breath, tension shaking her shoulders. "I don't know if I can do this."

"Do what? You're not the one who's mom is on her way here, probably with her _gun._" He shook his head ruefully.

"Oh, please, your mom isn't going to shoot you," Lilly scoffed. The tension was still there though. Now, she was doubly terrified. He just had to mention the gun. Handcuffs she could have just shrugged off. But no. He had to mention the gun. "I was talking about Max."

"So... you just want to go home, then? You don't want to talk to the writer who is probably your favorite aunt's ex-fiancé?"

"I just... I don't know." Lilly did shrug now, but the gesture was one of defeat, not of indifference.

Oliver watched her for a few minutes, his hands still on her shoulders, fingers unconsciously attempting to move in a soothing pattern. "I'll talk to him, get the books signed. You can stay right here."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

Lilly smiled gratefully,then suddenly leaned forward to plant a kiss on his lips. "Have I told you you're the best boyfriend ever?"

"You might have mentioned it before, but I always like to hear it."

Ten minutes later, Michelle had managed to score Oliver a spot at the front of the line, letting the disgruntled autograph seekers who were now behind him know that he had won some sort of contest, and she was sorry for the inconvenience. She had even changed into the tee shirt that acted as the store's uniform to appear authoritative. She gave Oliver a reassuring pat on the arm and went to keep Lilly company.

"We're not gonna get you in trouble or anything are we?" Lilly asked her, one foot tapping anxiously under the table.

"Nah. It'll be fine." Michelle waved the thought off, keeping her eyes on the line as S. K. Maxwell emerged from a door at the back and walked carefully up to the table set up for him.

Lilly's eyes swept over his face, searching for a sign that he was Max. She just couldn't be sure. He had the same jaw line that the Max in Lola's drawing did, but wrinkles stretched across his skin now. Made sense. The Max Lilly knew from Lola's stories was fifty years older. He looked tan, his grey hair thinning, and she thought he might be getting arthritis or something the way the fingers of his left hand curled when he waved to the women in line. He picked up the first thin tipped marker laid out on his table, and gestured for Oliver to come forward. Lilly wanted to hold her breath as she watched Oliver smile nervously, but she forced herself to inhale and exhale slowly. She wished she was a little closer so she could hear what they were saying.

"You aren't who I usually find in line at these things," the writer said with a slight cough as he carefully uncapped the marker in his hands.

"Yeah." Oliver gave a light chuckle. "My girlfriend and her aunt are big fans. She was too nervous to get in line." He swallowed and placed one open paperback book on the table, giving a slight nod of his head in Lilly's direction.

The older man did a double take when he saw Lilly sitting at the table with Michelle, her teeth biting hard on her bottom lip and her finger nails digging into the fabric of her jeans. He recovered quickly though and said hoarsely, "you've got yourself a very pretty girl there. The blond, right?"

"Yeah. Her name's Lilly." Oliver watched as an L formed on the page, but he held up a hand and added, "but I'd like the book signed to her aunt, if that's okay. She couldn't make it today."

"Oh," he faltered. "What's her name?"

"Lola."

A moment of silence descended on them. Oliver didn't even notice if the people in the line behind him were still chattering amongst themselves, his attention completely focused on the man in front of him now.

"Good name." The voice was paper thin and his hand shook as he began writing out a new message on the title page of the novel.

"Yeah. It's got a lot of _character._"

"Mmm..."

He seemed distracted now, but he signed the book with a flourish, handing the book back to Oliver. Oliver gave him a smile as he produced the other book from his bag, the one with the girl in the polka dotted dress on the cover.

"This is your newest book, right?" When he nodded, Oliver continued, "my girlfriend hasn't read this one yet, but the girl sitting with her said it's your best one." He waited, watching as the name 'Lola' appeared again on the page. "She said your characters seem so realistic."

"I get that a lot with that one. I guess I've gotten better in my old age." He gave a smile, finishing his signature again and handing the book back to Oliver.

"Can I ask you a question?" Oliver was being directed out of the queue by another employee, but the man in front of him gestured for him to go ahead. "Do you base any of your stuff on your life?"

"Sometimes... only the best parts." He nodded and Oliver was ushered out of the way so the women behind him could come up to the table.

Oliver swallowed nervously, sparing a few glances over his shoulder while he made the walk back to Lilly and Michelle.

"What'd he say?" Lilly yelped as she leaped from her seat. "No, wait, don't tell me." She took a breath and Michelle looked at her quizzically. "Is he? Or is Lola? What happened?" Her voice had taken on that pitch that was almost reaching the level only dogs could hear.

Oliver grabbed her arm and set her back in her chair. "How long ago did Miley call?" he asked her, avoiding the answers she wanted. Lilly responded with a blank expression. "Can you call her and find out how much she told my mom?" Lilly's face still appeared clueless. "So we know if we need to run or not?"

"What if she confiscated Miley's phone like my mom did?"

"Call Miley's house phone," Oliver instructed, hand still on her arm, trying to keep her calm.

Lilly glared at him, knowing his even tone and hand on her arm were supposed to placate her, but her mind was whirring with the possibilities of what he had discussed with the author that may or may not be Max. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed on autopilot, her eyes not leaving Oliver's as she placed the phone next to her ear.

There was an answer on the second ring.

"Are you in trouble? She didn't handcuff you or anything did she?" Miley's voice was like lightning crackling across the line.

"What? No. We haven't seen her." Lilly paused, taking a second to draw a breath. "I need to know how much you told her."

"Oh. Okay. I thought... cause, you know, she left almost an hour ago, I just had to wait for my dad to leave again before I could call. I just... I told her our project for school has to do with Lola and that you and Oliver were going to a book signing. I gave her the information for the signing. That's it."

Her voice sounded thin and less than convincing though, so Lilly asked, "are you sure that's all you told her?"

"Okay, she might have gotten that address out of me too. The one you asked for. Lola's brother."

Lilly swallowed and blinked hard. "Okay. Anything else?"

Miley was silent while she thought. "Yeah. That's it. I didn't tell her where you were staying or anything... I didn't even tell her what kind of car Lola had, but she knows that you're driving Lola's. Oh, and she didn't take my phone, so you can still call my cell, you know."

Lilly laughed with relief. "Thanks, Miley. I'll call you later." She hung up and relayed the information to Oliver.

"Great," he said sarcastically. "Well, thanks for helping us out Michelle, but we should probably get out of here before my mom shows up."

"Does she kind of look like you? But taller? Curlier hair?" Michelle asked, ignoring his thanks.

"What? Why?" Oliver's eyes widened in panic when he saw that the other girl was looking over his shoulder, her nose wrinkled in concentration.

"Oh my god," Lilly breathed. "Is she here?" She started to make an attempt at looking around, but Michelle was the one to stop her.

She held up a hand. "Don't turn and look. Hang on." She reached into her purse and fished out a compact, pushing it across the table. "Use this."

Her hand shaking as she lifted the compact and peered into the reflective surface, Lilly let out a little "eep" and handed the item over to Oliver. She watched his eyes widen then relax. They let out simultaneous sighs of relief. The woman who had just come through the door was in a blue uniform, her hair dark and curly, swept behind her ears, and a phone held to the side of her head.

"Not her," Oliver informed Michelle, pushing the compact back across the table. "My mom doesn't wear a uniform. She's actually a detective. But kind of freaky that a cop shows up just when we're talking about her."

"You think your mom called someone here?" Lilly wondered aloud. "I mean, she's got connections..."

The three of them looked at one another.

"Yeah... maybe I should take you guys out the back way," Michelle told them softly, standing, and ushering them through the cafe when the officer was facing the other direction.

They wound through the same hallways and around the same pallets of boxes, bypassing a few guys arguing over an open box of paperbacks.

Lilly blinked in the glare of the sunlight when they stepped out onto the sidewalk. It was getting late. "Well, thanks for helping us out. We really appreciate it."

"Yeah, really," Oliver echoed, peering around the corner of the building, squinting at the shapes loitering in the parking lot. "We couldn't have avoided my mom without you," he joked.

"Yeah." Michelle giggled nervously. "Um, good luck, I guess?"

"Thanks," Lilly whispered, grabbing on to Oliver's arm again and pulling him out to the car.

They slipped into a familiar pattern of silence and tension on the car ride back to the hotel. And it was a much longer ride on the way back. Oliver kept the books in his lap, and Lilly kept glancing at them before looking out the window, one leg bouncing on the floor. She tried not to clench her jaw in frustration. Racing by them were traffic lights and tall trees and even taller buildings. Clouds were gathering on the horizon and the sun was drooping lower and lower in the sky while they drove. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from groaning when they screeched to a stop at a red light and reached out a hand to grab one of the books, but Oliver's fingers closed around her wrist.

"I think we should wait until we get to the hotel," he explained, his voice a little apologetic.

"Fine," she snapped back. She wasn't too clear on why he always seemed to put himself in charge. It was getting annoying. He was working on protecting her sanity in a way that just made her feel like she was going insane. It wasn't fair.

She crossed her arms defiantly over her chest and waited. Oliver eventually pulled the car around the back of the motel, sliding into the space near the dumpster, half hidden behind a clump of bushes, the perfect space to avoid detection if his mother, or someone she knew, parked at the front of the motel looking for him. Lilly started to ease open her door, but he made a noise, and she waited again while he looked all around, searching for something, or someone, out of place.

"Miley didn't tell your mom we were here," Lilly bit out, her patience wearing thin.

Oliver jumped out of the car and sprinted for the set of stairs that would lead to their room, barely remembering to bring the books with him. Lilly rolled her eyes and followed at a much slower place. She was disappointed when she finally reached the room, sat down on the edge of the bed and read the inscription in each of the books.

_Lola - _

_Thanks for being a great fan. You've got a strong name. Make sure you live up to it.  
_

_- SKM_

She snorted in amusement. Oliver obviously hadn't said how old Lola was. It was the same message in both of the books, except the newer book had a little scribble at the start of the writer's initials. It was almost like he had started to write another name down and changed his mind. She quirked an eyebrow at the scribble, then brought the book closer to her face for further inspection.

It just looked like more scribble.

She sighed. "What'd he say?"

"Who?" Oliver was peering through the edge of the curtains, then making sure the blinds were let out, that no light was coming through them. He latched the chain on the door too before turning to look at Lilly.

"S. K. Maxwell! What did he say?"

"Oh. Him."

"Yeah. Him. The whole reason we were at the bookstore," Lilly said flatly.

"Right... I asked him if any of his stories are real and he said the best ones were. And when I told him your aunt's name was Lola he kind of looked... I don't know, surprised. And he definitely looked at you weird when I pointed you out as my girlfriend."

"You pointed me out?" Her voice was sharp now, but Oliver was still busy checking the room out as though someone had planted electronic listening devices around the room.

"Well, I pointed to the table where you were with Michelle, and..." He trailed off while he ran his fingertips beneath the edge of the table in the room.

"And?" Her voice got even sharper.

"And he said, 'the blond, right,' like he already knew. He definitely looked at you twice though." He paused, pulling off the lamp shade and inspecting it carefully, then scrunching his nose as a layer of dust hit his nose. "I told you, you look a little bit like Lola." Now, he was turning over pillows.

"Oliver, what the hell are you doing?" Lilly stood in the middle of the room, hands on hips, eyes wide in disbelief.

"Just... checking..."

"What? You think your mom somehow beat us back here when Miley didn't even tell her we were here? You are so paranoid!" She gave a theatrical eye roll for good measure.

"I'm paranoid? Really?" It was Oliver's turn for the wide eyes and the disbelieving stare. "Do you have any idea how much trouble we're going to be in when we get back to Malibu? My mom might kill me. I mean _really kill me! _Six feet under. No oxygen. Dead. Not to mention, your mom probably thinks this is all my idea. She's going to want me arrested for kidnapping or something before my mom kills me! So, hey, there's always prison instead of a coffin!" He threw the pillow in his hands down on to the bed with a little more force than necessary.

Lilly flinched, but she recovered quickly. "You're mom is not going to actually kill you! There will be yelling, grounding, maybe some other punishment, but there will be no death. And no prison!"

"You say that," Oliver snapped back, "but my mom likes you; she never uses her man voice on you! You don't know what's gonna happen."

"Neither do you-" Lilly tried to interrupt, but Oliver took a step toward her, and her fingernails dung into her hips reflexively.

"No, but I know it's gonna be bad!" He hissed, his body looming in her direction. Actually looming. Lilly never thought Oliver was capable of looming, but she also hadn't seen him this freaked out since he had his growth spurt when they started high school. "And we're probably just following a bunch of dead ends anyway!"

"You didn't have to come with me!"

"Oh, right, cause you could have just taken Miley's car and come to meet _a complete stranger _by yourself!"

"Walter is harmless!"

"You didn't know that! He could have been a murderer or, or a... rapist or a kidnapper or something."

"But, he's not, and I'm fine!" Lilly threw her arms into the air in exasperation and Oliver took a step back from her, arms crossing over his chest. "If you don't want to be here, you can just go home." She fought to keep her voice even, not understanding how being a little annoyed with him could suddenly turn into a full blown fight.

"I'm not gonna just leave you here!"

"Why not? Then nobody'll think you kidnapped me, will they?" she hissed.

Oliver shook his head in defeat. He didn't know what else to say, but he knew he couldn't just leave her. It didn't matter how angry he was with her, or how scared he was of his mother, or how scared he was of her mother for that matter. He wouldn't leave her. Even if this was a small town. Even if she could easily take a bus home to Malibu or something. He wouldn't leave her.

"You wouldn't be able to get home," he said finally, even though he knew it wasn't true.

"I could call Miley if I really had to. She's always willing to break a few rules," Lilly threw out the words before she thought about them, and turned away from him, toward the door.

"Whatever, Lils, I'm gonna get a shower," he told her dismissively. He had to get away from her before he said anything else stupid. Otherwise he was really going to start yelling and there would be probably be consequences of an undesirable type. Like him sleeping in the car.

"Fine."

"Fine."

Before he could say anything else, she was out the door, her phone securely in one hand, and her key card to get in the room wedged into her back pocket. She didn't want to just sit in there and stare at the cracking ceiling while he was in the shower. Frankly, she didn't want to be anywhere near him right now. She might throw something at him. And she didn't want to have to pay for any damages to the hotel room.

Instead, she sat on a moldy folding chair by the green coated pool, fingering the edge of her phone until the sun went down. When the last rays of sunlight disappeared, she thought about calling Miley, but pushed the thought away just as quickly. This was one of the few times where Miley would probably take Oliver's side of the argument.

The very, very, few times.

She waited a little longer for traffic to slow, the restaurant across the street to close, and ignored the rumbling in her stomach. She wasn't hungry. She just felt sick.

Sighing, Lilly looked back toward the hotel room where she was supposed to be staying. The curtains were still drawn tight, no light escaping the edges. She didn't know if Oliver was even in there; she had been so focused on either her cell phone or the disgusting water that she wouldn't have even noticed if he left. Deciding that just because she was angry, she couldn't sleep out here on the pool deck, Lilly climbed to her feet, then crept up the stairs, pressing an ear to the door before she tried to unlock it.

It was silent. No light on when she opened the door. Oliver was curled on his side on the bed in a tight ball, his face scrunched up just as tightly. And she felt a little guilty. Because he only slept like that when he was upset. She shut the guilt out though and laid herself down as far as she possibly could from him, hoping she would be able to fall asleep sometime before dawn.

* * *

**A/N: Oh, an update. I know, it isn't as exciting as you thought it would be, but we are getting somewhere. We really are. And no, you haven't seen the last of Nancy Oken. Or this writer that may or may not be Max. And hey, there's still another item on Lola's list that has to be completed, isn't there? Why yes, yes there is. I didn't forget about it. That item will be addressed very shortly as well.**


	17. Chapter 17

The faint sounds of birds chirping reached her ears, but Lilly could see no sunlight. As she blinked at the clock though, she realized that might have something to do with Oliver's insistence at closing the curtain so tightly the night before, not the time of the day it was. It was well passed sunrise. In fact, it was more like mid-morning. She laid perfectly still, afraid to turn to her other side, afraid that she would catch his eye, afraid that she would just start yelling at him again, or that he would start yelling at her. She didn't want to talk to him right now, much less yell at him. She didn't want to think about anything but finishing Lola's list. If she thought about anything else, her brain might self destruct.

Because she was laying as still as she could, she easily felt the bed shift as Oliver's weight left it. Still not turning around, Lilly listened as he washed his face, brushed his teeth with one of the cheap plastic tooth brushes they had bought the night they checked in, and then there was the sound of him putting shoes on.

"Where are you going?" her voice came out gravelly and a little disoriented when he walked back by her for the door.

Oliver paused, hand on the knob, his hair sticking out at odd angles, and Lilly didn't really want to think about why he wasn't even taking the time to comb out his hair. He always took the time to fix his hair. "Breakfast." His voice was gruff as well. "You want anything?" The question was forced from his mouth, every word clipped.

"No." She responded shortly.

He didn't even look back as he walked out the door.

Lilly groaned, wanting to pull the sheets up over her head and curl up into a ball. But if she did that, she wouldn't be finishing Lola's list, now, would she? Instead, Lilly hauled herself out of the stiff motel bed, away from the scratchy sheets, and forced herself to shower using the miniature bottles of hotel shampoo and body wash. Neither of them were apple scented, it all smelled like generic soap, and it just made her feel all the more unsettled. Especially when she was pulling on her grimy jeans that she had been wearing for the last few days and one of the guy's plain white tee shirts she and Oliver had bought in a three pack on their same trip to the store that had brought her the crappy tooth brush, scratchy sheets, and lemon fresh disinfectant.

None of this was going the way she wanted it to go. And if she would really let herself think about it, she would probably be wishing that they had just stayed home and stayed out of trouble. Except that she had made a promise. And she always tried incredibly hard to keep her promises. And she didn't want to let Lola down.

She sighed now as she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. She looked about how she felt. Eyeliner and mascara were all the makeup products that she could muster up the energy for. It wasn't up to her usual standards, but she didn't even care. A quick comb of her fingers through her hair, and she grabbed her phone, ignoring the missed call from her mother, and the low battery bars on the screen. She shoved it into one of her pockets, along with her room key card and a ten dollar bill from what was left of Miley's emergency money. Having a feeling that it wasn't going to be much help, she left the backpack containing Oliver's camera and Miley's laptop behind, and walked to the History Center, where Walter had already opened the doors for the day.

The sun wasn't as bright as she expected, the clouds having settled in overnight, but Walter was in a good, if not nervous, mood. He was jittery, like he had too much coffee that morning, but Lilly expected that might just be the way he was. A little overexcited and eager to please.

"You're here for the rest of the Lola research?" Walter asked, pushing some hair from his forehead, rocking back on his heels when he saw Lilly standing in the makeshift lobby.

"Um, actually, I was wondering if you could help me find out some information about one of the other residents from town." Lilly glanced around the room as she spoke, trying to examine it with fresh eyes, but all she could see were the same things that jumped out at her the day before.

"Were they an actor too? Cause Lola's the only person I know of who-"

"Oh, no, no... Uh. I just thought, since this was the history center, there might be more information about someone from here."

"Well..." Walter hesitated, swallowing convulsively. "Birth certificates, death certificates, property records, stuff like that, that's all at City Hall in the Public Records department, so..." He waited for Lilly to tell him just what it was she was looking for.

She went back and forth in her head for a few seconds. Should she ask about Max, who she was pretty sure they already found, but that she had chickened out of actually meeting, or the equally mysterious Sandy who fell off Lola's radar when she skipped LA for New York? "Okay, well I don't need to know if he owns a house or anything. I'd just love to see anything you might have on Bryan Sanderson." Lilly smiled brightly and followed him as he headed for the back rooms. She could always ask about Max later.

"Do you know what time period I'd need to look in?" Walter was suddenly all business, though there was still a little bounce in his step while he walked.

"He enlisted during the Korean War, and he was a few years younger than Lola."

Walter stopped so suddenly that Lilly almost ran into him. "Wait. You said his last name was Sanderson?"

"Yeah." Lilly's face fell as she watched Walter's shoulder's slump. This couldn't be good.

He turned to face her. "I don't think I'll be able to help you with that. The Sanderson family doesn't like the center to keep their family information here. Instead, they have it all over the walls at their place."

"You mean their house?" Lilly's voice rose a notch, in both volume and pitch. She didn't know if she was ready for a home visit to complete strangers.

"No way. They own a pub downtown. Well, downtown's like, four blocks in that direction, but you know." He gestured as he spoke.

"A pub?" The skepticism must have been evident in her voice because Walter gave a soft chuckle that turned into a cough. "What's it called?"

"The Diamond. The Sandersons have always been big into baseball."

"Gotcha." Lilly smiled tightly, then decided, "well, I guess I'll head over that way then."

"They don't open for another couple of hours."

And so Lilly found herself combing through the research Walter had done on Lola for her, none of it really helping. It was all full of information she already knew, or stories that weren't exactly accurate, at least, not according to Lola's journal. And as she reached the last article Walter had directed her to, she gave a sigh of relief, rolling her shoulders, and stretching her neck.

"Thanks so much for your help, Walter, I really do appreciate everything, but I think I'm going to go check out the Sandersons now, okay?"

They said their goodbyes, Walter promising to email Lilly if he found anything she might find interesting, and Lilly trying to move as quickly as possible out the door. She checked her phone while she walked, finding another missed call from her mother, which she rolled her eyes at, one from Oliver, which caused her a pang of guilt, and one from Miley. Miley was the only one who had left her a message, but it was nothing more than brief pleasantries and a request to be updated ASAP.

Lilly toyed with the idea of calling Oliver back, but he was supposed to be keeping his phone turned off in the event that his mom decided to track him, so she just shoved the phone back into her pocket and kept going.

The Diamond was a small, sturdy, brick building on the corner of a block that contained a lot of empty stores. Wrinkling her nose up in distaste at the debris of gum wrappers, cigarette buttes, and beer bottles that lined the curb, Lilly pulled open the dark doors with a squeak. She waited a moment for someone to direct her to a seat, but no one ever did, so she tip toed slowly for a booth situated along a wall that held tons of black and white photos. As she walked through the pub, she realized Walter was right about the Sandersons displaying their history, and their love for baseball, prominently. There were baseball cards paired with autographs and team rosters in elaborate frames. Photos of family members and awards were tacked up in every other available space. It was almost too much to take in with the dim lighting and the smell of stale beer.

Sliding into her selected booth, one that gave her a pretty wide view of all of the memorabilia in her section of the little pub, Lilly allowed her eyes to wander, and she waited for someone to notice her sitting there.

It wasn't long at all though before a boy her age with white blond hair and a pencil shoved over one ear asked if he could get her something to drink.

"Iced tea?" she asked hopefully.

"Only if you want it from Long Island," the boy joked with a wink and a dimpled smile.

"Water's fine, then," Lilly informed him with a smile. "Um, and I'll just take an order of fries." Another pang of guilt hit her when she saw him checking her out, his eyes angling down the front of her v-neck tee shirt that was a little big on her, before he walked away. Her fingers moved to the collar of the shirt, trying to tighten it, get it to stay closer to her neck, but it was no use when the shirt she was wearing was Oliver's size, not hers.

She wished she wasn't fighting with Oliver. She wished he was sitting across from her. She wished the search for Lola's missing people had been easier. She wished she wasn't going to be in huge trouble when she got home. In fact, she wished for a lot of things while she was waiting for the guy with the dimples to bring her a glass of water. Distracting herself from all that wishing, Lilly let her eyes roam the walls again, looking for something that could help her.

And unfortunately, she found it.

Two tables away from where she was sitting was a glass case on a shelf, a plaque and a photograph beside it, a black ribbon looped around one corner of the frame. And every little piece on the shelf was about Bryan Sanderson and his service record. He had never come home from the Korean War. But, according to the plaque, no one knew why. After being shipped out, he had simply vanished without a trace. He could have been captured, killed, or simply run away from the action. No one had heard from him since the same year Lola had left for New York after selling Sandy's lucky baseball card.

The blood draining from her face, Lilly ate her fries on autopilot, not tasting the grease or the salt, only guilt. And it tasted strangely like the grittiness of beach sand. She sat slumped in her seat the entire time, glaring at all the happy faces that slowly filtered into the pub throughout the afternoon.

Sometimes, life just wasn't fair.

* * *

Oliver, on the other hand, was having a lot more luck than Lilly, though he glanced at the clock on the nightstand every fifteen minutes when he got back to the hotel room from getting breakfast. He had even brought something for his girlfriend, despite the cold attitude he had showed her when he left. Except she wasn't there when he got back.

Where was she?

He had made good use of the laptop Lilly left behind, tracking down the publisher for SK Maxwell's books, and calling, using the phone in the motel room of course, looking for the writer's agent. A young woman, at least, he was guessing she was a young woman based on her voice, answered the phone.

"Barefoot Books. This is Tabatha. How may I direct your call?"

"Yes! Tabatha. Hi. Tabby, can I call you Tabby?" Oliver was using the schmoozing voice he had learned from Jackson. Jackson always used it at Hannah events when he wanted some sort of extra perk for himself or his date. And as much as Miley might have hated to give him what he wanted, she never seemed to be able to turn him down. "Great. I'm really sorry to bother you with this. I'm sure you have much more important calls to take and more important people to talk to, but I seem to have lost all of my contact info for Mr. Maxwell's literary agent. We're supposed to be having a meeting next week, but for the life of me, I just can't seem to track her down." He took a gamble deciding the agent was a woman, but that's what his gut told him to go with. And his mother always said a good detective listened to their instincts.

"I'm sorry, but Mrs. Merriweather is very careful with her client's privacy, as well as her own. May I ask who you are?"

Tabatha sounded pleasant enough, so Oliver figured she was primed to buy whatever story he fed her.

"Of course, I understand. The name's Mike Stanley the second." He figured it was better to say the second than the third in case someone tried to find out anything about him. "I'm a producer with..." he searched the back of his brain for the name for one of the companies Miley had filmed with over the years as Hannah, and finally landed on one, "Relativity Media, and we were supposed to be discussing the possibility of adapting one of Mr. Maxwell's newest books for film. I know he doesn't usually like to take those kinds of meetings, but Mrs. Merriweather agreed to at least see what we were offering."

"Oh, I see." There was a pause, some typing on the other end of the line, and then Tabatha was back. Oliver crossed his fingers, and then came the words, "do you have a pen?"

"Yes, Tabby, I believe I do." He smiled to himself and wrote down the phone number and email address she rattled off. Thanking her with a wide smile that she couldn't see, Oliver hung up the phone and did a little victory dance. It wouldn't be quite as easy to trick Mrs. Merriweather, but he had high hopes after the ease with which he was able to get the agent's information.

Taking a quick break from his research, Oliver glanced stealthily out the door to the room, checking on the cars in the parking lot, and, he was willing to admit, checking if he could see Lilly anywhere near by. He knew she had spent a lot of the night before sitting by the nasty pool downstairs, but she wasn't there. And he didn't see her walking anywhere either. He considered leaving to find out of Walter had seen her today, that seemed the likely spot for Lilly to travel to, but he didn't want her to come back and find him gone, so he brushed the idea aside, and got back to work.

A couple of hours later, Oliver had managed to contact Agent Merriweather. At least, that's what he had jokingly called her on the phone, and she had loved the title. He had spilled Lilly and Lola's entire story to her. No pauses, barely stopping for breath, the schmoozing voice forgotten. He couldn't help it. As soon as he was connected to her direct line by her assistant, everything fell out of him. Her voice reminded him of his mom's, a little gravelly and deeper than the average woman, and avoiding her calls for the last couple of days was catching up to him. He thought he might actually like hearing the man voice when she used it on him once he got home.

At first, Mrs. Merriweather didn't believe him. But when he described Max, when he told her about the relationship Max and Lola had when they were his age, he heard the muffled gasp on the line, and the moments of silence that followed let him know that Max had likely talked with his agent about the inspiration for his latest book. And that's when Agent Merriweather became Very Special Agent Merriweather, giving him all the information he could possibly have needed on her client, whose real name was actually Maxwell Kenneth Shales. He hadn't been all that creative when he picked a pen name.

Oliver thanked her repeatedly, and was all ready to hang up the phone when she interrupted him.

"You know, I know for a fact that he's going to be home tonight and tomorrow. He's got the next week off from his publicity tour, and he told me he wants to take a little time before he starts his next book..." She trailed off, letting her words hang between them.

Oliver just swallowed and thanked her again. His foot was tapping excitedly when he said goodbye. They were almost there! But as soon as he hung up the phone and checked the time again, he heard the rain starting to fall. Moving to look out the window, Oliver was surprised by the dark sky and the sudden winds.

He grabbed the keys to the car and set out to find Lilly. This town wasn't that big. He didn't care how mad she was at him. She didn't need to be walking around town in this.

* * *

Lilly was practically growling in her frustration. It had been raining forever, and she was pacing the front of the pub. Unlike the typical patron, she wasn't interested in hopping up on a bar stool, sipping a beer, and waiting out the rain while she watched the local news on a small television. She had already ordered three sodas, which had caught up with her, and caused her to find that the bathrooms weren't all that great here, and she had finally had to just pay the bill and make an attempt at leaving. But the rain wasn't cooperating.

She was, mostly, over her anger now, and she wanted to get back the motel. She might not have wanted to tell Oliver what she had found out here at The Diamond, but she needed to. She had to tell someone. Especially since she had discovered that the fiancé Sandy had left behind had actually been pregnant. She had raised the baby by herself, and it was that baby's baby who had actually taken over the work at The Diamond. Lilly had been avoiding meeting the owner's eyes ever since he came to check and make sure she was enjoying her visit. Apparently, he did that every time he came in. He was too nice.

And now, the glass panes of the door were fogging up as a result of the rain. The high heat outside didn't seem to be dissipating with the rapidly falling water. Lilly rolled her shoulders, her eyes trained on the precipitation outside, arms crossed resolutely. She was waiting for a lull, a shift in the clouds, and then, she was going to make a break for it.

It took about fifteen minutes for the rain to slow, but when it did, Lilly was out the door like lightning, her hair whipping around her head in the sudden wind. She walked against it toward the motel, having not noticed that her earlier trip had taken her downhill. Now, not only was she having to walk against the wind, but against the rainwater running off as it made its way to the storm drains.

"Why?" She groaned. "Why did it have to be today? It couldn't have rained tomorrow?" Her brisk walk was becoming more haphazard with every step. Even her favorite tennis shoes were no match for the slick asphalt and the rushing water. As thunder rolled, she took out her cell phone. She was just going to have to hope that by some miracle Oliver would be turning his on as she was calling.

But that would have been too easy. Because the call went straight to voice mail, Lilly tripped over a curb, and her phone landed with a nice splash in a deep puddle, just as the rain began to pour all over again.

"This sucks," she muttered to herself, flinging her hair out of her eyes with one hand as she bent down to retrieve her phone. Once it was in her hands, she resumed her walk. Her walk that was turning into a trudge. You just couldn't move that fast when the rain was like a wall surrounding you.

* * *

Oliver sat on the bed, turning his cell phone over in his hands again and again, feeling the smoothness of the plastic against his finger tips. It wasn't enough of a distraction, and the fact that it wasn't ringing, that she wasn't calling him, was just making him worry more. She had called once, earlier, but she hadn't left a message, so he had no idea where she was or what she was doing. He had been all over this damn town since the rain began, but there was no sign of her. He knew she couldn't have gone far. She had left her bag behind, and she hadn't taken the car. He had already tried calling four or five times, but he couldn't get an answer, and the rain was coming down harder now.

What if something had happened to her?

He only left the phone on a few more minutes, then he turned it back off. He thought it was worth the risk, but it would be his luck that there was nothing wrong, that Lilly was just still ignoring him, and then she would yell at him when his mom was able to find them because he left the phone on for too long.

There was a clap of thunder and what sounded like marbles falling on the roof. That wasn't hail was it? He jumped off the bed and hurried to the window of their small room. No, it wasn't hail. It was just pouring. He could see nothing but water. It was like the building was suspended under a waterfall or something. And then there was a flash of lightning. The first flash of many.

He really hoped that Lilly was okay. He had no idea what he would do if she wasn't. Probably not be able to ever go home again.

Closing his eyes, his forehead leaning against the pane of glass, he sighed. With a shudder, he threw himself away from the window, shutting the curtain and grabbing the car keys. If he had to drive around in a torrential downpour for days on end to find her, he would. He'd do just about anything. Oliver slipped his sneakers on to his feet and tripped on his way to the door, twisting the latch to let himself out, but when he opened the wooden panel, there she was, room key in one hand, her dripping tennis shoes in the other.

And she was soaked. Her shirt almost translucent, her jeans looking like they had been painted on, her hair hanging down in her eyes, Lilly looked as though she had swam her way back to the hotel. Of course, with the weather the way it was out there, she almost had. She wiped the back of her hand on her forehead in an effort to get the strings of hair out of the way, but they just clung to her skin. She opened her mouth to say something, but it quickly shut again. She didn't know what she could possibly say to him right now. She knew he had to be furious, but she was so relieved to be back to the room and out of the rain, and to see him.

He wanted to yell at her, to tell her how worried he was, to ask her why she always had to be so stubborn, but she shivered and he grabbed her shoulders before any words were said, crushing her against his chest, holding on as tightly as he could and she dropped her shoes and the key onto the carpet of the room.

"Where the hell have you been?" was the muffled question the top of her hair received. He didn't care that her eyeliner was probably staining his shirt right now or that the bottom of her muddy jeans were probably coating him in mud too.

"I was trying to find Sandy," Lilly mumbled, "and then it started raining, and I dropped my phone, and I didn't have any more money with me and..." she trailed off as he pulled her into the room with him, still shivering. The door slammed shut on its own, the electronic lock clicking in place. She still found it odd that such a crappy place bothered with electronic locks.

The air outside had been hot and humid, but having been drenched by cold rain for the last twenty minutes had a way of cooling you off, especially when the air conditioning unit in your room was set on one of the lowest possible settings. Oliver noticed her shaking and kicked the air conditioner, hard. It sputtered to a stop and Lilly leaned her head into his chest, grateful.

"God, Lils, I thought you got kidnapped or something." Oliver's arms stayed around her waist, and he had no intention of letting her go any time soon. "I was so scared that you were still mad at me and I didn't-"

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I was just frustrated and I took it out on you."

"That's what I'm here for, remember?" Oliver teased, dropping a kiss on the top of her head, feeling the rainwater from her hair dripping down his neck. "I just didn't know how to find you to let you yell at me some more."

"I'm not gonna yell at you anymore. It's just... I found Sandy."

"Yeah?"

"Well, I didn't find him." Her voice was still low. She was almost afraid to say the words too loudly. "No one found him."

"What do you mean?" Oliver leaned his head back so he could look down at her, but she avoided his eyes, swallowing hard, one cheek rubbing against his tee shirt.

"He enlisted in the fifties, remember? That's how he ran into Lola in Los Angeles? Well, he did ship out that next week after she saw him. He was declared missing in action in Korea."

They were both silent for a few minutes. Lilly squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to cry. She had been holding off on that the whole walk back, but then the rain had tried to drown her, and now she wasn't sure if she could hold it in anymore.

"So we can't apologize for Lola then?" Oliver asked even though he already knew the answer.

Lilly shook her head, and she felt warm water rush from under her tightly closed eye lids before she could stop it. She had wanted so badly to be able to find Sandy. She had wanted more than anything to be able to give Lola good news. And now, she felt like a failure. A miserable failure who had taken out all of her anger on the best boyfriend ever.

"His family, his grandkids, they still own a bar here in town, but what do I do? Go in there and tell them that a woman that he spent the night with fifty years ago wanted to say she was sorry for selling his good luck charm right when he went to war? God, they would hate me." Her voice broke on the last words and her shoulders shook. "Just like you should."

Oliver sighed, closed his eyes, and let her cry, his hands making slow circles over her back. When he had criticized the searching methods Lilly had been employing, this wasn't exactly the kind of problem he had anticipated. "I could never hate you, Lils, you know that." She just kept crying though, so he kept holding her, listening to her erratic breathing become hiccups and feeling her tears soak through his shirt. When Lilly's breathing seemed to be returning to normal, he opened his eyes back up and said softly, "Well, I think I have something that might make you feel a little bit better. I found Max. And he is very much alive."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Is he SK Maxwell?"

"He might be," Oliver told her teasingly.

Lilly smiled into his shirt, then realized that she was transferring all of her rain water over to him. "I want you to tell me all about it, but I think I need to shower," she told the cotton fabric against her mouth.

"Yeah, I know." He didn't let go though. Instead, he walked backwards, leading her further into the room and closer to the bathroom. "I don't want you catching pneumonia or anything." His back hit the door jamb and he winced, but his arms stayed around her, tightening their grip, if that was possible.

Rather than make her feel uncomfortable, Oliver's arms had a warmth spreading through her, one that blocked out the chill she felt from the rain. "I don't think I can shower like this," Lilly joked, a slight waiver still in her voice, her feet sliding against the tiled floor of the bathroom, but Oliver caught her just in time.

Leaning back so he could see her face better, Oliver took in her red eyes and pale complexion. Even though he had just felt her smile, even though she had just been teasing him, she still looked a little lost. "I know," he said softly. He let go of her to move some of the hair from her face, finger tips ghosting across her skin, making her shiver all over again, and added, "just don't run off like that again, okay?" His stomach dropped even thinking about the possibility.

"I didn't mean to make you worry," she whispered, feeling like a toddler getting into trouble with her parents, the guilt at yelling at him the night before and avoiding him all day twisting around inside her, an ache settling in her chest. For someone who had always been the first to pick a fight with her friends, she wasn't very good at confrontation when it came to her boyfriend. She was actually better at fighting with her parents.

When Oliver's hands cupped her cheeks and his lips pressed against hers though, all parental comparisons went out the window. If she had thought him holding her was keeping her warm, she was on fire now. He was just way too good at this, Lilly decided. No matter what was going on, whenever he kissed her, whenever he touched her, she didn't care about anything else, all she wanted was more. And it wasn't entirely fair.

She stood on her toes, pushing forward, trying to get closer to him, and she heard, as though from far away, his back hit the wall. Between that and the door, he was probably going to have quite a bruise there. Oliver groaned low in his throat, and Lilly pulled back, wanting to see if he was alright, but then his arms were around her again, pushing on her back, urging her closer, and she stopped thinking. She just felt.

* * *

**A/N: So, so... what do you guys think? This isn't exactly my favorite chapter. Every time I read it back I change things. But, I decided to go ahead and post it. Otherwise, I'll just keep changing things and it will never get done. And don't worry, we are nearing the home stretch now. I hadn't anticipated this ending up so long. According to my revised outline, there are three chapters left. Of course, my original outline had this story at only 15 chapters, so I guess we shall see, won't we?**


	18. Chapter 18

Sitting on the edge of the bathtub wrapped in a towel, Lilly was trying very hard not to giggle, and failing.

"I'd like to see what your bright idea is," Oliver teased her after shutting off the hairdryer he had borrowed from the motel lobby. He had been aiming it at Lilly's jeans, which were hanging over the shower rod, water still dripping from the fabric.

"Maybe it isn't hot enough?" she suggested with a shrug and another giggle, tucking some of her wet hair behind one ear.

Oliver rolled his eyes and smirked. "Glad to see you're in a better mood now." He pointed the hair dryer in her direction and flicked the switch so that she received a quick burst of warm air to the top of her head before he flicked it back off.

"Yeah, yeah..." she waved him off, but she could see that the self satisfied smirk still wasn't leaving his face. "I wouldn't give myself too much credit, if I were you."

"You wouldn't?" he asked, providing an expression of mock surprise and taking a step toward her.

She stood, lightly pushing his chest with her palm, and shook her head, trying to keep a straight face again. "Nope. I don't think your ego needs anymore inflating."

"Oh, I see." Oliver nodded his head in understanding, setting the hair dryer back down, and leaning forward, his face inches from hers.

Lilly didn't move a muscle, except to smile. "Maybe we need to find a laundry mat."

"You going to walk around town wearing that towel? Not that it isn't a fantastic look on you. I just don't know if I want you sharing this particular look with anyone else." As he spoke, his left hand moved up to her shoulder, his finger tips traveling from the skin there to the top of the fabric. He let one finger slip from one edge to the other, all the way across her chest along the material.

She cleared her throat and said a little breathlessly, "maybe I should take over the hair dryer duty. We shouldn't-"

"Again. Yeah," Oliver agreed, shaking his head and taking a step back, his face heating up. He had promised Heather Truscott he wouldn't do anything she didn't approve of with her daughter. The list of items that weren't mom approved had been a long one, and he knew for a fact that what they had just done qualified. And now, when he got home, he was going to have to lie to her face. This wasn't going to be good. He sighed, shrugging his tee shirt, which was mainly dry, except for those few spots on his chest where Lilly's hair had been plastered, back on. He chose to pretend the smudged eyeliner and mascara across the front didn't exist.

Lilly picked up the hair dryer and examined it, but it only had an on switch. No adjusting the temperature or anything. She shrugged, eyes shooting over to Oliver while he combed his hands through his hair. It started sticking out at odd angles. A slight giggle escaped her again, and Oliver caught her eye in the mirror. "Do you need to dry your hair?" she asked him innocently.

"I'll think I'll just let it dry on its own," he remarked easily. "Besides, we really should get your pants dry if we're going to go see Max."

"Wait, so you really found him?" Lilly dropped the hair dryer, forgotten, on the floor, not noticing Oliver wince at the crashing sound. "Like, you got his address and everything?" When he nodded, she hopped up to perch on the counter of the sink in front of him and wait, her legs swinging in front of her, one hand clutching the top of her towel to make sure it didn't fall down. "Tell me."

Oliver's eyes dropped from her face to the towel, and back up again. "I, uh, got to, um, talk to his agent." His voice was strangled and he shook his head as though trying to clear it.

"Oliver, focus!" Lilly commanded. "I'm glad you like the towel and all, really." She couldn't stop the smile that cropped up and she bit down on her lip to stifle it before she kept going. "But you have to tell me what happened. Stop getting distracted!" She placed her hands on either side of his face and held it so that he was forced to look her in the eye.

"Okay, jeez!" Oliver rolled his eyes, but he didn't pull away from her hands. Taking a deep breath, he recounted the effort he went to with the internet, and then the publisher, and finally, his conversation with the agent.

"You think we should go today?" Lilly asked, slowly removing her hands from Oliver's skin and folding them in her lap.

"Uh, yeah," he deadpanned. "I think if we don't end this road trip soon, we might be facing a search party from the National Guard or something." He waited for Lilly to nod before asking her about the topic they had been avoiding since getting out of the shower. "What about Sandy?"

Sighing, Lilly closed her eyes before she spoke. "I might have an idea about that."

"What?"

"Well, Lola wanted to apologize to him. What if, instead, we send the baseball card to his family, with a note explaining that he left it with Lola." She opened her eyes, squinting at the puzzled expression on Oliver's face. "We don't have to tell them exactly why it was left with her, or even that she sold it temporarily. We can just say she's been hanging on to it, that he never got it back from her, and she's apologizing for not returning it to his family sooner." Oliver still didn't respond, so Lilly quickly added, "and we should probably let them know just how much it's worth." She shrugged. "Not that they wouldn't know already. You should've seen all the baseball stuff at their pub."

"I can't believe you went to a pub," Oliver told her.

"What? It's not like I was drinking at the bar or anything."

"I'm pretty sure your mom said I wasn't supposed to let you go in any bars." He shook his head, already anticipating all the ways Heather could torture him on top of the torture he was probably already facing.

"You're worried about me going into a place that has a bar?" Lilly asked, the amusement in her tone evident. "I think you should be more worried about her finding out about the shower and-"

"Okay! Point taken!" He cut her off before she could recount all of their activities. "I just have to learn to lie better."

"You must be better at it than you think. You lied to the lady at the publisher." She kicked her feet forward while they talked, her toes hitting his jeans every so often, knowing it would soon annoy him, and he wouldn't be able to help reaching out to grab her foot to make her stop.

"That's different. She's a complete stranger. We're talking about your mom here." Oliver groaned, arms crossed now, but his eyes followed the movement of her legs while she kicked him.

"Can we not talk about my mom anymore?" Lilly whined. "We'll figure it out later."

"Right." Nodding, Oliver moved away and retrieved the hair dryer from the floor instead of giving into temptation. "We have to figure out this Max visit."

They were both quiet for a few minutes, Lilly combing her hair, and Oliver resuming his effort to dry her jeans. But the hair dryer only lasted a few more minutes. With a loud popping sound, it suddenly stopped dispensing any air.

"What'd you do?" Lilly yelped, hopping down from the counter.

"What d'you mean what'd I do? I didn't do anything. It just turned off!" Oliver pointed the open end of the dryer at his face, trying to see if any of the wires had come loose, but nothing looked out of place. Not that he knew what the inside of a hair dryer was supposed to look like.

"Something had to have happened," she countered, trying to lift the dryer from his hands, but he held it out of her reach.

"Yeah, something did. It's a piece of crap," he shot back.

Before their retorts could turn into an argument though, a knock sounded on their motel room door.

"Who do you think it is?" Lilly whispered, her eyes wide and fearful. For once, she was wishing Oliver had been more paranoid and they had switched to a new place after the first night. Or at least switched rooms.

"Miley's the only one who knows we're staying here, right? She said she didn't tell my mom?" Oliver's eyes were just as wide, his throat tight with his shared fear.

"Yeah... but Miley's grounded." Lilly peeked around the door jamb of the bathroom as though she could peer through the front door to see who was outside the room. There was another knock.

"Only one way to find out," Oliver mumbled, resigning himself to his fate.

Lilly stood in the bathroom doorway, too in shock to think about trying to stop him as he went for the door. Her fear was short lived though when she saw the petite and tan form of her other best friend framed just in front of her boyfriend.

"Miley!" Lilly squealed happily and skipped forward to give her a hug, forgetting the current state of her wardrobe, and she squealed again when she saw that Miley was carrying a large quilted bag with her.

"I guess it's a good thing I'm here," Miley joked, taking in the looks of her two best friends. "I brought you guys some clothes."

"Would you get inside!"Oliver commanded, ushering both girls into the room and locking the door behind the three of them.

Miley chuckled as she examined Lilly's towel. "Do I want to know why you're walking around in a towel and why Oliver has makeup all over his tee shirt?" she asked.

"I got caught in the rain," Lilly started to explain, then shook her head. "No, no, you don't want to know... What'd you bring me?" Instead of waiting for an answer, Lilly took the bag from Miley's hands and began rifling through the contents, finding her favorite jean skirt and a plain purple tee shirt to go with it. Miley had even managed to bring her new underwear. She didn't want to think about how Miley had found clothing for them as she tossed one of Oliver's nondescript black tees and a pair of jeans at him. She threw her arms around the other girl and exclaimed, "I never doubted that you were the best friend ever!" And then took herself back into the bathroom to change.

"How'd you get my clothes?" Oliver inquired, not meeting Miley's eyes as he picked them up from where they had landed.

"I broke into your house," she said nonchalantly.

"What!"

"Relax, I'm kidding." Miley settled on the edge of the bed, crossing her legs. "You left your keys in my car when we went to see Lola. I used your house key and grabbed you some clothes when no one was home." She shuddered and added, "I didn't go through your underwear drawer though, so, sorry, but no new boxers."

"And my mom hasn't been by to see you again?"

"No." Miley's voice was carefully flat. "And I took a really weird route out of Malibu. I went in circles for a while. She shouldn't have followed me."

"Shouldn't have?" he echoed, then moved to the curtain, peeling it back to glance outside.

"Yep. I think you guys are safe for now. She's probably going to figure out what kind of car Lola has soon though, and she might know that you guys are using that car... I'm not entirely sure how clear I was on that when she was interrogating me." Miley avoided his eyes, and caught site of the tee shirt Lilly had been wearing earlier crumpled on the floor by the bathroom door. "Huh. I thought for sure with Lilly here, this place would be spotless." She shot a quick glance at Oliver as the bathroom door opened and saw that his face was red to the tips of his ears.

"Yeah, I'm gonna change into the clothes you brought me," he said out of the corner of his mouth, passing Lilly on her way back to them.

"Uh huh." Miley gave Lilly a knowing smile when they were alone in the room.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that? What happened?"

"Why don't you tell me?" Miley waggled her eyebrows before fluttering her lashes, and then laughed when Lilly's cheeks turned pink. "I guess you don't really have to."

Lilly rolled her eyes and took a seat next to Miley on the bed. "You wanna hear what we found out or not?"

"Of course I do! I mean, I want you to be able to finish Lola's list, but I want us to be able to do good on our project too, you know?"

"Well," Lilly corrected automatically.

"Well, what?"

"It's do well, not do good."

"Oh, right." Miley shook her head. "I just feel guilty that you and Oliver are out here doing all the work!"

"You did steal information from my mom's computer, and you got interrogated by Oliver's mom. I think we can say you've done your fair share," Lilly remarked with a smile, just as Oliver exited the bathroom in his new clothes with semi-combed hair.

"Yeah. We've been on vacation for the last couple days. You're the one who's been sneaking out when you're grounded," Oliver remarked sarcastically. He promptly shut his mouth when Miley glared in his direction.

"Okay, so, fill me in," Miley commanded, returning her attention to Lilly. "What'd I miss?"

Lilly and Oliver took turns telling their story, leaving out their fight and the shower, of course. There were some things that just didn't need to be shared. Miley agreed that Lilly should send the Sandersons the baseball card, along with as brief of a note as possible, and she wanted to go with them to see Max.

"You're dad is going to kill your Hannah career, you know that, right?" Oliver's arms were crossed and he was leaning against the front door.

"Pssh. He'll just cancel a show or two. He's not gonna want to let the fans down for too long... or not have Hannah money coming in. I mean, sure, he'll be disappointed in me for sneaking out while I'm grounded, but he always says that a true friend is always there for you, no matter what. Really, he should be proud of me for coming out here to support you guys in your quest." She nodded emphatically, looking back and forth between her two friends, but neither of them seemed to share her view.

"Isn't it bad enough that Oliver and I are probably going to be grounded for life? You don't need to get into all that trouble too!" Arms crossed and head tilted, Lilly's expression looked just like Oliver's, except that she was still seated next to Miley on the bed.

"You guys! I came all the way out here, and I brought you new clothes! Come on!"

"No. I'm not even going to tell you Max's address," Oliver said flatly. "And you can't come with us."

"What? But, but, I broke into your house, and I got questioned by your mom," Miley protested to Oliver before pleading with Lilly, "and I got that stuff from your mom's computer, and... I would let you come with me!" She widened her eyes dramatically, her lower lip jutting out.

"Don't you try that!" Lilly snapped, wagging her finger back and forth. "I'm not giving in! You're already grounded! We only have to worry about getting caught before we can actually finish. I know we'll be in trouble once we actually get home, but, we have to finish while we can."

Miley sighed, letting her head droop, still hoping for some sympathy at missing out on all the "fun" they were having.

Lilly decided to try another tactic, taking a cue from the paranoia Oliver had exhibited the day before. "Besides, Mrs. Oken already knows that you know where we are. What if she has someone watching you or something? She could be on her way here right now!" Lilly jumped to her feet and moved to peer through the curtains to make her point.

"I guess you guys are just lucky that I used Jackson's car instead of mine then, aren't you?" Miley snapped in return. "And I wore a hat and baggy clothes so no one could tell it was me from far away." She gestured to her jeans that were a size too big for her and the Rico's tee shirt that may have belonged to her brother too. "You guys should check out of your motel here so you can come straight home after you go see Max." She curled her lips up in disgust as she took in the peeling paint and cracks in the ceiling before she jumped to her feet as well. "I'll even be nice and trade cars with you, even though you won't let me go with you."

"Why do we need to trade cars with you?" Oliver asked quickly, ignoring everything else she said, wanting to smooth the budding argument over.

"I told you, I can't really remember if I told your mom what kind of car you guys were driving, but it's only a matter of time before she figures out that you have Lola's car. It's probably not hard for her to figure out that the, what's it called, the GTO, is registered to Lola. It's only a matter of time." Miley rolled her eyes before giving a small smile. "I guess it would better for me to make sure I can keep you guys out of trouble longer instead of just adding to it. I mean, if we all get in trouble, we can't finish out project, and then we'll all be failing English."

"We wouldn't be failing," Oliver started to correct her, but at Lilly's expression he quickly added, "well, you guys wouldn't be. I probably would."

"Okay. Keys." Miley held out one hand and waited for Oliver to deposit Lola's car keys in the palm of her hand. When her fingers closed around the pieces of metal, the purple on her fingernails sparkled in the light.

"Nice nail polish. I really like that color." Lilly leaned forward to examine the nails.

"Good, cause I got one of every shade of purple they make. You can have half of them."

"Why would you buy that many purples?" Oliver asked, taking the car keys Miley offered him.

"I was having a bad day," she growled. "I shop when I'm upset."

"Oookay..." He scratched one of his eyebrows and started picking up all of his and Lilly's dirty clothing from the floor, stuffing them into a plastic bag from their shopping trip. While Miley told Lilly about her other purchases, he kept picking up, not really listening to them. All of the wet towels were set in one section of the bathroom for housekeeping. The laptop was put in the larger pocket of Lilly's backpack. Lola's journal was safely tucked away. It didn't take as long as he thought. They were ready to go in minutes.

But Lilly stopped them, penning a letter on a piece of notebook paper to the Sandersons, and handing it, and the baseball card that she carefully pulled from the pages of Lola's journal. She folded the letter around it, and handed it off to Miley.

"The Sandersons own a pub called The Diamond. It's only, like, a mile away or something. Right in the middle of downtown." Lilly swallowed and instructed Miley, "just drop it off with the bartender, tell them it's for the owners."

"You want me to just drop it off?" Miley asked in surprise. "I thought the card was worth a ton of money."

"It is, but the place is run by the family, so I think it'll be in good hands."

"Alright," Miley said finally, preparing to leave them, her hand on the door. "Don't stay gone for too much longer. Remember, straight back from Max so you guys don't get killed or something."

They all walked down the stairs together, Miley shaking her head at the brown and green gunk that lined the pool below them. She sped off in Lola's car while her friends checked out, handing over a good chunk of their cash and the key cards they had been given. Oliver threw their bags into the back of Jackson's car when they were done, and Lilly climbed into the passenger seat.

"Why do you always get to drive?" she questioned when he started the car.

"You never want to drive. You always give me the keys." Oliver narrowed his eyes at her. "Do you want to drive?"

"No, I was just wondering."

Oliver laughed and fished a piece of paper out of his pocket. "Hang on to this. These are the directions to Max's house."

Lilly nodded, her mouth going dry. "So, this is the very last thing on Lola's list."

"Yep." Oliver nodded as well, hands on the wheel, eyes straight ahead. Now that they were alone again, he was wondering if they were going to start fighting all over again... or if he was going to be able to keep his hands to himself for the whole car ride. Except that he had to because he was the one driving and he couldn't afford to distract himself. "So..." He searched for a topic to take his mind off the fact that Lilly was now wearing a skirt and pair of sandals courtesy of Miley. "I have a question about Max."

"Shoot."

"Well... I don't know if we should tell the whole class in the presentation that the love of your great aunt's life is a famous writer. I mean, the guy's got a pen name for a reason, right?"

"Well, yeah, but he does signings and stuff, so if we show his picture or anything, someone's bound to recognize him... probably Sarah. She has a thing for romance novels." Lilly tucked one of her ankles behind the other as she spoke, sliding in her seat so she could face Oliver. She was thankful Miley had driven Jackson's car first. That meant the garbage in the floor had already been disposed of, and there was a nice air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror, so some of the Jackson stench was masked.

"Yeah... but I did some research. And he's only been doing book signings for about the last year. Before that, he was pretty much a ghost. One of his fans staked out the publisher's office and figured out who he was... She's been arrested, by the way, for stalking a couple different guys. But, anyway, that's when people started putting a face with the fake name. That's the only reason he's doing the signings now. Cause people know that he's S.K. Maxwell." Oliver was quiet for a minute letting Lilly mull that information over. "The guy lives in the middle of nowhere, Lils. He likes his privacy. I'd feel bad outing him to the whole class."

"What if we didn't use any real names?" Lilly reasoned. A smile lit up her face as she thought about it. "We could do the whole investigative news thing, you know, like those old unsolved mystery shows. We put a disclaimer at the beginning, the names have been changed to protect the innocent. We could even film a whole reenactment. Miley would love that." Oliver still wasn't saying anything, so Lilly asked, "you don't think it's a good idea?"

"No, I think it's a great idea. I hate giving speeches. That'll actually be fun."

"Good. Then it's a plan."

Their eyes met while Oliver tried to briefly look over at her, but he held her gaze a little too long, and almost ran them right off the road. Lilly giggled, and Oliver cursed. The drive was going to be a long one.

* * *

**A/N: On the road again. I know. They spend an awful lot of time in the car, don't they? Haha. Maybe it's because I want to go on a vacation. Only a couple more chapters to go, and next one has Max, so see, we're winding down. I seriously can't believe I actually am almost done with something that's this long. Crazy. **


	19. Chapter 19

_Sssccccrreeeeeeett._

"What's wrong with you!" Lilly yelled out the passenger side window. "You think because you're on a bike, you don't have to signal?"

The guy on the bike that had just crossed unexpectedly in front of the car made a rude gesture with one of his hands and Lilly opened her mouth to make another retort, but Oliver put his foot back on the gas, and the car chugged along, a soft pop emitting from the exhaust before it was able to pick up speed again.

"Idiot," Lilly muttered under her breath, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

Oliver grinned, always amused when she aimed her anger at other people. "Don't worry, Lils. I've got reflexes like a cat. Nothing gets passed me."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Then I don't need to tell you anything because you see that armadillo up there, right?" She asked him dryly.

"Right," he affirmed, then blinked in surprise. "What?" Swinging the wheel sharply to the right, Oliver steered the car around the animal just in time. "I saw it," he said nonchalantly, not turning to look at Lilly. "I was just testing your reflexes. That's all." He nodded swiftly, tightening his grip on the wheel when Lilly giggled.

Another pop sounded from the exhaust. This time it was a little bit louder.

"Do you think the car's gonna make it?" Lilly questioned.

"I don't even know how Miley made it all the way to see us."

Lucky for them, they didn't have too much further to go. They spent much of the rest of the ride in quiet, Lilly humming to herself every so often, and Oliver drumming out a rhythm on the steering wheel every time they stopped at a cross roads. He tried to keep his focus on the pavement in front of him, and not the girl next to him who kept playing with her hair and making up nonsensical tunes.

Another thirty minutes down the now relatively deserted road, and the car was starting to slow down of its own accord.

_. Click. Click. Click. Whirrrcrick. Click. Grrrripireckelrrrcck. Click. Click._

"You know, Jackson's car sounds even worse than yours," Lilly said offhand as the car in question was turned onto a long stretch of gravel.

"Maybe it's tired." To make his point, Oliver pulled the car over to the side of the gravel road and put it in park. Or rather, he ground it to halt and applied the emergency break to make sure it didn't roll away.

"What? It's tired, so you're stopping? That's it?" The panicky voice was accompanied by jerky movements and a desperate tugging on her seatbelt.

"Lils, relax. I think this is his driveway. It's a private road." Oliver gestured around them to show the crush of trees just beyond the gravel. The gravel path moved uphill not far in front of them, turning around a bend, and they couldn't see beyond it.

"So, what you're saying is that we have to walk from here?" Lilly's expression was doubtful and she glanced down at her sandal clad feet and denim skirt before looking back up at Oliver again.

He knew exactly where she was going with this as her eyes widened and she started breathing a little faster. And she wasn't worried about a long walk in sandals like she was hoping he would think. "Lils, can I ask you a question?"

"Uh... yeah..." She looked out the window, her eyes drawn to a pair of squirrels that were chasing one another around a tree trunk. She couldn't really tell which squirrel was chasing the other. The pair just kept going round and round in circles, their claws digging into the tree and scraping along the bark.

"What are you so afraid of? Not being able to tell Lola what she wants to hear?" He reached out, one hand taking a hold of one of hers, his thumb stroking her wrist. It was devoid of the usual wrist band. Miley must not have brought her a new one, and Lilly probably tossed the one she'd had on earlier. It had been streaked with rain and mud, not exactly the look she usually went for.

"I- yeah. I want him to miss her. I want him to want to know her again. But what if he doesn't?"

"Doesn't Lola deserve to know the truth? She's been wondering about it most of her life."

The squirrels ran faster and faster along the trunk, and Lilly craned her neck to watch them as they disappeared amongst the branches. Were they fighting? Was one of them trying to chase the other away because they were stealing the other's food? Or maybe, they were two male squirrels fighting over a female. Or maybe they weren't fighting at all. Maybe the chasing was some sort of weird mating ritual. Who could really tell?

"If it was me, I don't think I would want to know," she whispered, finally turning to meet Oliver's eyes. Hers were bluer than normal, the color brightened by the emotions in them.

Oliver swallowed the first retort that came to mind, and instead, told her, "that's never gonna be you."

"What makes you so sure?"

"You're not Lola."

"But-" Lilly thought about the squirrels again. Did one ever get sick of chasing the other? "I-"

"Lils," he cut her off with a shake of his head. "You might get mad at people and want to run away, but you're not the kind of girl who would take off across the country when stuff got too hard in one spot." He paused, drew in a deep breath, trying to stretch his legs in the cramped driver's side of the car and failing. "Besides, I'd drag you back to Malibu if you decided to run off and leave me."

Lilly laughed, unable to stop herself, and decided she was being ridiculous about this whole thing. Oliver was right. Lola did deserve to know the truth, even if it turned out to be the opposite of what she wanted. She flipped her hair over one shoulder and gave him a bright smile. "Alright, let's do this." But instead of getting started right away, she found Lola's journal, and held it tightly in her right hand. "But this is coming with us. Just in case he needs some convincing."

Climbing out of the car, Oliver allowed Lilly to lead the way up the path. He didn't want to walk any real distance in front of her in case she changed her mind and ran back to the car without telling him or something. That was something she might do. Or hide behind a tree and refuse to come out until Oliver made sure Max actually wanted to talk to her. It wasn't like she would steal the car and drive off or anything.

Oliver cut his eyes over to her as his stride matched hers and he walked alongside her. Her gaze was fixed on the path in front of her, but she still looked a little apprehensive.

No, she wouldn't steal the car.

He pushed the keys further down into his pocket, just in case, and stumbled a little in the gravel. She didn't know how to hotwire one anyway. So she couldn't steal it unless she picked his pocket. And he would notice if she tried to take the keys out of his pocket.

Oh, yeah. That was definitely something he would notice.

"What are you smiling at?" Lilly asked him, interrupting his thoughts.

"Nothing. I was just thinking."

"About?" she prompted.

"I don't know. Nothing really." Oliver shrugged, not wanting to admit where his mind had wandered. She didn't need to hear that right now anyway.

They rounded the bend, and both stopped in surprise.

"Wow," Lilly breathed, reaching out next to her, searching for Oliver's hand in the still air.

He laced his fingers through hers and nodded his agreement.

You would never have known it from the road, but the house that belonged to S. K. Maxwell, alias Max Shales, was pretty amazing. It looked like someone had picked it up out of one of those country paintings and just plopped it down in the middle of nowhere in California. There was no large privacy gate that a lot of celebrities employed, probably because Max thought his identity was safe from his fans. The lawn was meticulously maintained though, with a few trees spread here and there across the trim grass. The gravel gave way to a paved driveway, and the driveway led straight up to a garage next to the house. The door to the garage was shut, but it was a deep green with a pair of tinted windows near the top, and Oliver was sure it contained one of the classic cars that he had glimpsed descriptions of when he leafed through the pair of novels they had purchased.

A stone path, it appeared to be the same kind of stones that had been broken into gravel for the road, bridged the garage and front porch of the house. The same deep green that was used for the garage door trimmed the windows and doors on all three levels of the house. A balcony wrapped around the entire second floor, and a wooden swing hung on the front porch, just next to the front door. They could hear the engine of a lawn mower sputtering in the distance, and Lilly's eyes were drawn to the pickup truck to the side of the driveway, one that had the name of a landscaping company stenciled on the side.

"Well, would you look at that," Oliver whispered out of the corner of his mouth. "We could have just posed as landscapers to get to talk to him."

"Very funny." Lilly's voice was flat, and her eyes were back to the size of a scared rabbit's. She took a shaky breath and tugged on Oliver's hand, pulling him toward the front porch.

Though every single window was open, the screens bending every time a slight breeze blew in, the house was quiet. Almost too quiet.

"What if he's not here?" Lilly hissed suddenly. "You said he would be here."

"I'm sure he's here, Lils." Oliver responded. But he avoided meeting her eyes again and inspected the porch they were walking up instead. The steps didn't creak under their weight, completely solid. But the blinking red light of a security camera could be seen just above the door frame. Oliver shook his head. He was starting to get nervous now.

When they found themselves standing in front of the dark oak door, Lilly slowly slid her fingers out of Oliver's grasp, using both hands to hold Lola's journal briefly to her chest as though it would bring her luck, and then she rang the doorbell.

A trio of low tones sounded throughout the house, and Oliver found himself with Lilly glued to his side again. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, I am." She nodded her head, and gave him a smile, her cheeks pinking when he met her eyes. "I have a good feeling about this."

"Can I help you?" It was a woman, young, with dark curls, who was addressing them from the doorway, her voice throaty and full of authority.

* * *

"No, no, no, no, no!"

Miley moaned in frustration and pulled Lola's GTO into the right hand lane, hoping that the flashing lights that were tailing her would just go right on by, intent on catching someone who was breaking the law. But they didn't. The car the lights were attached to wasn't even a normal police car. It just looked like a regular car, but a siren had been slapped onto the roof, and there were lights running across the dashboard through the windshield that were flashing as well. Sighing, she pulled into the parking lot for a gas station, and waited, both hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly she was afraid she might never be able to let it go.

"Please let it just be that a tail light was out or something. Please, please, please." She continued pleading under her breath, eyes closed, hoping that the person getting out of the other car wasn't who she thought it was. " I wasn't speeding. I didn't run through any red lights. Please let this be nothing."

Cautiously, Miley opened one blue eye to look out her open window when footsteps approached the side of the car. This was going to be bad. Very bad.

"You don't look like Lola Truscott," Nancy Oken informed her, sunglasses still covering her eyes, a purple silk scarf still tucked into the collar of her blouse. She tucked some of her hair over one ear in a gesture that reminded Miley eerily of Lilly. "And this car is registered to Lola Truscott. But you already knew that, didn't you, Miley?"

"Yes," Miley squeaked out.

How much trouble would she get into if she just drove off? Would that lead to a police chase? It wasn't like Miley had broken any laws. Nancy couldn't follow her and arrest her, could she?

"Why don't you get out of the car so we can chat?"

So much for that idea. She was almost back inside the Malibu city limits anyway. It wasn't like there was really anywhere for her to run to. She couldn't even hide out as Hannah since Mrs. Oken knew about her alter ego too. She helped out finding them off duty cops for security sometimes. She knew all the tricks.

Miley cut the engine and unbuckled the seat belt from around her waist. When she climbed out of the car, she was careful not to let the door slam, wanting no reason for Nancy to think she was giving her some sort of attitude.

"I know you think you're being a good friend, Miley. I know you don't want Oliver and Lilly to get into trouble..." It was Detective Oken talking to her again, but her voice sounded deeper than it had earlier. "But you have to understand that your friends are already in so much trouble, okay? It will be better if you just tell them to come home now." Nancy's eyes drifted meaningfully down to the cell phone that Miley had picked up and was now clutching in her hands with the car keys.

"I... I can't," Miley realized triumphantly. "Lilly's phone isn't working anymore. She dropped it in a puddle."

"A puddle?" Nancy echoed, her eyes narrowing. "Is it raining where they are?" She inspected the surface of the car, but thanks to the length of the trip, the car was spotless.

"I don't know." Miley shrugged. "That's just what she told me." She didn't notice the mistake until it was too late.

"How did you talk to her if her phone isn't working? And why are you driving Lola's car now? Hmmm?" Her gaze pierced Miley's, her hands resting on her hips, and Miley swallowed nervously.

"I, um... I... ran into her. Earlier today. You know, for a few minutes. That's all." She fidgeted, toes kicking one of the tires, fingers wringing around keys. She wished she had someone else here to offer some sort of back up. She wasn't usually good at lying on her own.

"Where'd you run into her?"

"You know, I don't really remember."

"No?"

"Nope."

"Where's your car?"

"At home.

"Hmm..." Nancy's eyes resumed narrowing, and she cleared her throat. "Can you at least tell me what it is the two of them are really doing?"

"Working on a school project," Miley responded promptly. She knew it was only half the truth, but it made her feel better to have something honest to say.

"Yeah, that's what you said before, and I know that's what they told Heather as well, but... I have a hard time believing my son, who is a C student, would be spending the better part of his Spring Break actually going above and beyond to get a good grade on a project." She arched one eyebrow, not backing down.

Miley slumped against the car, defeated. She was tired of lying. Especially since she seemed to be the only one who kept getting caught in her lies.

"I don't know where they are right now, okay?" she snapped. "They wouldn't tell me. Probably because they knew you'd come and ask me." She breathed hard through her nose, then asked, "Can I go home now?"

Nancy eyed the teenager warily, trying to gauge whether or not she was lying to her again. Satisfied, she nodded her head, but before Miley could get back into the car, Nancy placed her palm on the top of the door, preventing Miley from opening it all the way. "Just tell me what it is they're doing for their project. Then, at least I'll know what they're up to."

Miley had skipped a lot of the finer points of the scavenger hunt they had taken on when Lilly had decided to finish Lola's list for her, but now, she steeled herself to explain all about just who Max was, and why it was so important for Lilly and Oliver to find him.

* * *

"So... tell me, why are you looking for Mr. Maxwell?"

The couple was now seated in a simply decorated dining room, full of dark woods and white fabrics. It was open, clean, and it smelled like lemons, but they still sat uncomfortably in the carved chairs across from the young woman who had opened the door.

"It's a family matter," Lilly said sharply with a tight smile. Both of her hands were folded neatly over the journal on the table in front of her. She was ignoring the minuscule piece of gravel she could still feel in the soles of her sandals and the sweat that was slowly making its way down her spinal column. She was here to see Max, not this strange woman who seemed quite at home in his house.

"I see." The woman offered Lilly the stainless steel tea pot in front of her, but Lilly shook her head mutely.

Oliver cleared his throat next to her and asked, "I'm sorry, but... I don't really know how to say this politely... who are you?" He kept his eyes wide, going for the image of stupidity that always made Miley and Lilly think he had no idea what was going on.

"I'm his new assistant." She added a spoonful of sugar to her cup, stirring slowly and methodically as she regarded them. She wasn't entirely sure what to make of two teenagers showing up at her boss's house just before the sun would set. "You know, I was under the impression that Mr. Maxwell didn't have any family."

"I didn't say it was _his _family matter." Lilly told her, voice firm. She wasn't telling this supposed assistant anything unless she had to.

The three of them sat there in relative silence, the assistant sipping her tea and watching the other two with arched eyebrows. Oliver could almost hear the second hand of the clock on the wall ticking by, but he wasn't going to say anything either. He had already told Lola's whole story to the woman at the publishing company. It wasn't his place to say more. And he could tell with a single glance in Lilly's direction that she was keeping her mouth closed until Max was in the room.

Though it felt like it could have been hours, it was only minutes later that a door slammed in the back, and two male voices could be heard from the kitchen. One of them belonged to S. K. Maxwell. He was thanking the other male voice for a job well done and saying he would see him in a couple of weeks. It was then that Oliver noticed he no longer heard the motor running for the lawn mower outside. There was a click as the door in the back closed again, and a swish as the side doors to the dining room were pushed inward. The author himself was standing there, a alight smile on his face.

"Clara, remind me to give the landscaper a raise next time he's here."

Lilly sat up straighter, her muscles stiffening, and she opened her mouth to say something, but all that came out was a very small "eep."

Oliver reached under the table and squeezed one of her knees reassuringly, leaving his palm there afterward to let her know she didn't have anything to be afraid of.

"Mr. Maxwell," Clara, the assistant began, "these children-"

But she didn't finish because the writer met Lilly's eyes and his step faltered. He stood at the head of the table, his gaze not leaving the teenagers, and said to C lara, "it's alright. You're done for the day... Really, it's fine. We're old friends." One corner of his mouth quirked up and he blinked, seeing Oliver as well. "I guess we have a lot of catching up to do."

They all waited for Clara to gather her belongings, place her tea cup in the kitchen, and leave through the kitchen door. Oliver held his breath until he heard a car start, then decided to be the one to break the ice. "So... should we call you Mr. Maxwell or is it alright if we go with Mr. Shales?"

"I think you and I both know what my real name is." The older man gave a full smile now, slowly sliding himself into the chair Clara had so recently vacated. "I've always preferred Max. Never did like Maxwell. I always thought it was better as a last name than a first name." He leaned back in the chair, rolling his shoulders. "So... how's Lola?"

Lilly furrowed her brow. "You know why we're here?" She shook her head, the confusion radiating from her. "But how?"

"Your boyfriend told me your aunt's name is Lola." Max chuckled softly to himself, and then shook his own head ruefully. "You look so much luck her."

"Told you," Oliver whispered out of the corner of his mouth. Lilly responded with an elbow to his side.

"Why are you here, really? I doubt it was just because you liked my books. What does Lola need?" The smile was gone from Max's face now, and the lines around his eyes were shadowed in sadness.

"She just wanted to find you." Lilly's voice was barely above a whisper, cracking on the last word. "She has this list of things she wanted to finish, and finding you was the last thing on it. The most important." She pushed the journal in his direction. "It's all in here. Everything. All Lola's regrets. Everything she wishes she could take back. The entries about you are the longest." Taking her fingers from the cover of the notebook, she swallowed and drew in a deep breath. "She never stopped loving you, you know? She didn't get to apologize or tell you the whole story... about why she left." Lilly paused. This was one of the only times in her life that her mouth wouldn't keep up with the stream of thoughts swirling around in her head. She usually tried to speak as fast as her thoughts jumped to the surface. But now, she couldn't decide what to say. She wanted to tell Max about Lola being sick. She wanted to ask why he never contacted her again. She wanted to know if he still loved her. It was too much.

Max didn't say anything at first, one hand reaching shakily out to take the journal from the middle of the table. He slid it closer to himself, but he didn't open it. He just stared at the cover.

"You gave that to her, right?" Oliver asked.

Max nodded mutely and a heavy silence descended on the room again. It was Lilly who ended it, leaping to her feet, smoothing her skirt, and shaking her hair over one shoulder. She tapped her fingers on the back of the chair for a moment, gesturing with her free hand for Oliver to join her.

"Here's the thing... Max. Lola only wanted me to find you. And I found you. I've read every entry in Lola's journal. I've finished other things on her list too. And I'd really like to be able to tell Lola that you want to see her, but I'm not gonna do that. You only know one side of the story. You should know the rest. And I know how much Lola cares about you. Lola just... when Lola gets scared, she runs away." Lilly realized as soon as those words left her mouth that she was taking the wrong approach. "But she wasn't scared of you. And Lola's stubborn. She has a hard time backing down when she sets her mind to something. It's just... Lola's sick. There's something wrong with her brain. And she's starting to forget things. And she wanted to be able to make things right before she completely forgot everything. I don't know if you ever married or had a family or anything like that, but Lola didn't. She tried to... but she's always been in love with you." She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, so she glanced over at Oliver, but that didn't help. She was having visions of herself fifty years from now without Oliver. "I know that you were probably really hurt by my aunt, but... if you just give her a chance, you'll understand. It's all in the book. And Lola's address is at the back. I put it in there for you. So... we're just gonna go now so you can read the book. Or not. It's up to you. But I hope you get to see her."

As soon as she finished, Lilly sucked in a breath and grabbed Oliver's arm, dragging him toward the front of the house.

"She still loves me?"

Lilly froze, but she couldn't say anything. Oliver answered for her. "She never stopped. You're her soul mate. You only get one of those." His fingers found Lilly's without looking and he gave her hand a quick squeeze. "If you're lucky." He let go of her hand and leaned in to Max to whisper, "but just so you know, you should probably skip the entry about the college professor... and maybe the one about Lola's sister's wedding too. Just, you know, a thought."

He followed Lilly while she practically ran from the house, leaving Max staring at the old leather bound journal he had given to a girl decades ago for her sketches.

"Are you sure you just want to leave?" Oliver called, trailing behind her down the front driveway and down the gravel.

The sun had started to set, and Lilly's hair was surrounded in a halo of pinks and golds as she stepped quickly across tiny gravel rocks. She wouldn't answer him, just kept walking as quickly as she could without breaking into a full blown run. And even though Oliver knew she was trying to run, he paused in his walk behind her to watch her walking away. Even scared and upset, he didn't want to take his eyes off her.

"Lils?" He tried again, beginning to jog to catch up.

They were half way down the gravel hill and to the turn before she stopped, bracing her hands on her stomach and taking deep breaths.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't. I didn't know what else to say. Lola has the right to know the truth about how Max decided to live his life. You were right about that. But he needs to be the one to tell her." She paused, turning to face him. "I just don't know if he will."

"Did you see the look on his face? He's gonna talk to her. He's gonna go see her. I know he will." Oliver reached forward and drew Lilly into a hug, wrapping his arms around her and allowing his fingers to run across her shoulder blades. He mentally chastised himself that he shouldn't be thinking about how soft her skin felt when his hands grazed the back of her neck or how good her hair smelled, even without her signature apple scent. He had to focus on what had just happened.

"You really think so?" Her breath tickled the side of his face. She was on her toes with her chin propped on his shoulder.

What had he just told her? Oh, right.

"Yeah, I do. He won't be able to stay away. I wouldn't be able to either."

Lilly pulled back from him just slightly, her eyes still watery, but she was smiling now. "I have no idea how to write up a report on this now, but at least we finished Lola's list." Her smile slowly faded while Oliver nodded his head in agreement. She couldn't help but notice that Oliver's eyes kept dropping to her mouth. And as much as her mind was reeling by the confirmation that S. K. was Max, or that she hadn't even gotten up the courage to ask any of the questions she wanted to know the answers to, a big part of her brain suddenly didn't care anymore. The ball was in Max's court now, and she was incredibly relieved. So, she quit thinking, going back up on her toes and letting her mouth find Oliver's in the quickly approaching darkness.

"I hope your little project is finished."

Oliver jerked his head away from Lilly. He knew that tone. And it wasn't pleasant. It was on the verge of approaching "man voice" territory. But he wasn't about to let Lilly be subjected to it.

"Mom! I'm so glad you found us!" He tugged on one of Lilly's hands, making sure to move slightly in front of her. "Lilly's phone isn't working and my battery's dead, and Miley let us borrow her brother's car, and it's a piece of crap."

Nancy Oken sighed, but there was a smile dancing behind her eyes. "You do know that you are one of the worst liars I've ever met, right?" She rolled her eyes at her son's comical appearance of innocence. "I'm just glad you two are alright. If you would have just called me," she gave Oliver a fierce look at that, "I wouldn't have had to keep hounding Miley for information."

"I'm sorry," Lilly said softly. "It was all my fault."

"No, it wasn't!" Oliver protested. "I _wanted _to help."

"Yeah, but if it wasn't me-"

"That has nothing to do with it."

"It so does!"

Nancy watched them argue for a few more minutes before butting in. "I think we can say you'll both be splitting the guilty verdict." She smiled as their faces fell. "Why don't you two jump in the car, and I'll have someone pick up Jackson's car tomorrow."

It was twenty minutes into the silent drive back to Malibu that she told them, "you should never tell Miley anything if you ever have to keep a secret. That girl folds faster than any first time I offender I've ever seen."

* * *

**A/N: Parts of this chapter were more sappy than I intended, but I figure you guys will understand. Just one more to go. Punishments will have to be doled out and reports will have to be given. Plus, I know you all want to know what's going to happen with Max and Lola. If you're still reading.**


	20. Chapter 20

"What happened after that?"

Twenty pairs of expectant eyes peered at the trio. And one pair of slightly more skeptical eyes.

It was one week after Nancy Oken had picked up her son and his girlfriend. One week that had been full of household chores, like sweeping out rain gutters, painting garage doors, mowing lawns, cleaning ovens, washing cars, and making the insides of the houses shine from top to bottom. And, of course, no one was allowed to visit Lola.

"Well, nothing. That's it. We found the guy my aunt was looking for. We located the missing person." Lilly nodded, expression innocent, cheeks pink. If she hadn't been so wired for the last seven days, she would have been exhausted.

"You expect your classmates and I to believe that with some googling and a couple of simple phone calls you managed to locate someone your aunt couldn't for the last fifty years? And then you just left him?" It was Lee. The one with the skeptical eyes. The substitute who had revealed that he would be finishing out the semester with them at the start of class. Lilly was beginning to not like him very much.

"We-el," she began, tucking some hair behind her ear and looking to Miley for help. Oliver hadn't looked like he would be much assistance, expression blank, hands in his pockets. Kind of his usual front of the classroom stance, actually.

"Well, there was the road trip and the interrogation and the grounding," Miley added, wincing when Lilly elbowed her in the side. "I mean, yep, that was it," she gasped, rubbing her ribs gingerly.

"Road trip?" Lee echoed. "Explain." He crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back in the chair he was seated in at the far end of the classroom.

"Um, you see," Oliver took over when neither of the girls opened their mouths, "the thing is, it was kind of a long drive to where the mystery man was. And the car broke down on the way there, and you know, there were a couple of issues, but they aren't really related to the actual investigating." He pulled one hand out of his pocket and scratched his chin awkwardly, his cheeks reddening as well.

"You're sure none of it's related?" Lee pressed, not liking how all three of them were avoiding one another's eyes.

"Yep." Miley was the one to nod the affirmation while she gathered their papers together and then pulled the DVD they had made out of the player. "I mean, Lilly and Oliver did other stuff on Lola's list, but none of that had anything to do with finding Ma- the mystery man."

"Miley!" Lilly chided.

Oliver shook his head in exasperation. When had Miley stopped being able to keep her mouth shut? She was the one with all of the secrets!

"There were more things for you to do? Did you solve a couple more mysteries?" Lee winked, and Lilly wasn't entirely sure if he was serious. It was more like he didn't believe them.

"Yeah," she snapped back. "There were two other people that my aunt wanted to find. Stuff she wanted to tell them. We found them too." She crossed her arms now, glaring at the new teacher, but unable to keep the information from him. "There was a woman who owned a bakery that she worked at a long time ago and she wanted to apologize to, and a soldier she wanted to return something to. That's all." Lilly shrugged. "No big deal."

"Alright... Nice job."

The bell rang so they were saved from answering anymore questions right away as everyone scrambled for their bags and their books, intent on getting out of the classroom and into the hallway. Lockers were opened and slammed shut and voices echoed along all of the metal in the corridor. It was practically deafening after the near silence during their presentation.

"Man, come on, you can totally tell me. Who's the mystery man? What's his real name?" Todd questioned Oliver as he followed the friends into the hallway.

"Sorry dude, we gotta protect the privacy of our clients," Oliver joked, clapping Todd on the shoulder and throwing an arm around Lilly.

Lilly ignored them. She had expected the teasing of her classmates when they gave Max the title of Mystery Man. She had a feeling it might get them a few points docked off their grade because she wasn't willing to tell Lee just who Max was so that he could check their work. But she didn't care. What she cared about was getting through the school day and over to see Lola at the center. She was allowed exactly two and a half hours after school to do what she wanted. Then, she had to be home to watch her brother or her mom would know. And Lilly couldn't afford anymore trouble.

So, she kept her head down, and her mouth shut, letting Oliver and Miley field the questions while they walked, and then she impatiently waited for Oliver to unlock his car in the parking lot. She was practically bouncing on her toes, feeling as though she could jump right out of her skin. Oliver was just not moving fast enough for her. She had been shocked when her mother agreed that it made sense for Oliver to drive her home from school since he did live right next door. And she had been even more shocked when Lola's nurse, Genie, had called to inform her that someone had scheduled a visit with Lola this afternoon. A Mr. Maxwell. And Lilly wanted to be there when he left.

When Oliver finally turned the key in the lock and the click sounded that allowed her to jerk the handle for the door up and climb inside the car, Lilly moved as quickly as possible to do just that. She crossed her legs, backpack clutched in her lap, but Oliver was still standing outside talking to Miley and Todd, and the line of cars in the parking lot was stretching longer and longer.

"Great," she muttered to herself, the fingers on her left hand absentmindedly sliding the zipper across the small pocket at the front of her backpack. As she did so, the corner of a little blue envelope poked out, the back stamped with the brown outline of a cartoon-like cupcake. Smiling to herself, Lilly pulled the envelope free from the pocket and withdrew the letter it held. She unfolded the pages and read over the page again for the fifth time that day.

_Miss Lilly Truscott,_

_You have no idea how excited I was to receive your letter! I know an awful lot about Lola, though I have to admit, her story, as told to us kids by my grandmother was always so mysterious that I wish I could meet her. She always seemed like a character from a book to me instead of a real person. We actually keep a drawing that she made for my grandmother framed up on the wall in the bakery, right behind the register. It's a sketch that she did that ended up being the logo design for the sign and the menu._

_Anyway, I'm glad you told me the truth about what happened between them. My grandmother always made it out like Lola must have gotten some big movie role or something and that was why she up and left. I always wondered if maybe I'd see her in a movie and be able to tell everyone I knew that one of our most famous cupcakes was actually a star._

_And yes, the Lola is one of our most popular cupcakes. I whipped up a batch of them with the correct recipe though, just to see how different it would be. Honestly, it isn't even that noticeable. Your great aunt must have too good of a heart, or at least felt a little too guilty, to really change it up. If it had been me, I probably wouldn't have even left the recipe. My mother tells me it's the Irish temper that I get from my father. But, thank you. The tiny little improvement to the batter will probably make the cupcake even more popular. And if it's okay with your family, I think I might add the legend behind the dessert to the history of the bakery on our website, and maybe in one of the frames we have up inside._

_You might have noticed that a very large box came with my letter. Or, at least, I hope it arrived in tact. I sent you a sample of the cupcake you've helped us perfect... as well as every other cupcake we offer on the menu. A pair of each. I'm overnighting it, so they're practically fresh. I really can't think you enough for giving me the inside scoop on Lola, or the new recipe, and I want you to know that if you or your aunt ever come to New York again, anything you want is on the house._

_Thanks again,_

_Sammy Lewis_

Lilly could feel her grin stretching impossibly wide across her face. She couldn't be happier that one of the items that she had helped Lola with had been such a success.

And really, it was mostly Oliver who had found the bakery and the family that she had to send the recipe to. So, she had made him check his bloodsugar about five times at lunch before she presented him with his very own Lola and shoved the letter in Miley's face to give them the good news. Oliver had been awarded the first taste for all of his hard work, and he had easily proclaimed Lola to be the sweetest thing in the cafeteria, next to Lilly of course. Which had produced a few "blahs" from Miley, right before she asked to try the cake herself.

Sighing, Lilly stopped in her reflecting, carefully folding the note back up and returning it to her bag. She zipped the pocket with an air of finality and glanced back out the window. Oliver was, thankfully, turned to the car, yelling something she couldn't really understand across the hood, his hand on the door again. A bit impatiently, Lilly slid across her seat to wrench the window down with the old manual handle and hissed, "Are you coming or are you going to give me your keys?"

Oliver rolled his eyes and hopped into the driver's seat. "Would you chillax, Lils? We've got plenty of time."

They stared at one another for a moment, the muscles in Lilly's face frozen, and Oliver's smile dropping.

"Did you just tell me to chillax?"

"Who? Me? I would never!" He feigned innocence, one hand to his chest, then winked at her.

She couldn't help it. She started to smile, and then simply shook her head. "Just start the car!"

It was a long and impatient ride for Lilly. She was beginning to despise cars, and thought that her goal in life might be to wind up living somewhere where she would never need one again. Sitting in a car, just waiting, while the scenery passed you by was definitely not relaxing. It made your toes tap and and your fingers itch, and every nerve was just screaming to be out and about, not confined to the vehicle.

_She was so sick of cars._

Oliver tried to distract her the closer they got to the center. He started babbling about music, but Lilly kept giving him shorter and shorter answers until she was basically just making noises that didn't sound like affirmations or negations. Changing tactics, he asked about the other cupcakes that had been delivered to her house that morning, just before she had to meet him to leave for school. But she was thinking it was not a good idea for him to stuff himself full of frosting and sugar. She refused to tell him about any of the other flavors. She wouldn't even describe what they looked like.

"Come on! You can't even tell me what kind you have?"

She crossed her arms and didn't answer him.

"That's not fair! You have two of each."

"And I have a mom and a brother that I live with. And I'm supposed to see my dad this weekend." She gave a small sigh and added, "Mainly because my mom thinks me spending the weekend with him will keep me out of trouble... And I'm taking the other Lola to Lola."

"Well, obviously, Lola should get to try the cupcake named after her. Jeez! I'm talking about all of those other ones." He waited, but she didn't say anything as they pulled toward the gates for the center. "I thought your mom was off sugar and caffeine again because she said you stressed her out enough that she didn't need the headaches."

"She is. Or she was. I don't know." Lilly shook her head and gave a slightly more dramatic sigh. She pulled her ID out of her bag and handed it over to Oliver as he pulled a car length closer to the guard at the gate.

They checked in with no problem, but when they walked to the main building at the center, it was Genie who greeted them, not Lola, letting them know that Lola was having a surprisingly good day, and that Mr. Maxwell and Lola were currently walking the grounds.

"Oh," Lilly faltered. She had been sure that Max would be gone by now. "Well, um, we'll just wait at the car for a little bit, if that's okay?"

Genie assured them that was fine, and Lilly scuffed the front of her sneakers along the pavement as she walked ahead of Oliver back to the car. She plopped down in the passenger seat, holding the plastic container with Lola's cake in her lap.

"Do you think the frosting will melt in the heat?" Oliver asked after a few moments. He was eying the container with more than simply idle curiosity.

"I'm not giving you Lola's cupcake," Lilly told him quickly.

"It was worth a try."

"I'm surprised you didn't try before now."

He laughed lightly, then tapped her arm quickly. "Look, it's Max and Lola!" He gestured ahead of them, and Lilly immediately grabbed his arm and pulled him down further in the seat.

"Oliver, you have to slouch!"

"Slouch?"

"Do you want them to see us?"

"Why wouldn't I want them to see us?" Oliver knit his eyebrows in confusion. "Lilly, why are we spying on them? You said you were coming here to see Lola!"

"I was!" Lilly huffed, then peaked over the dashboard. "I don't want to visit her while he's here though. It could be weird."

"It wouldn't be weird."

"Yes, it would."

"You're being ridiculous."

"I'm not ridiculous!" She protested loudly.

"Fine." Oliver sighed and waited.

"Don't you want to see if it all works out?" Lilly questioned more quietly.

"Well... yeah..."

She gave a small smile and gestured with her chin to the windshield. They both edged their heads forward so that only their foreheads and eyes were visible over the dashboard.

Lola and Max stood on the sidewalk outside her room. There was a black car parked a few spaces down from them, and a man stood there, politely holding the door to the back seat open. It must have been Max's driver. Lola's face was bright, more animated than Lilly had seen her in a long time. And Max was smiling as well, holding the journal out in front of him. Lola hesitated, but only for a second before she took it back from him. He bent slightly, laying a kiss on her cheek and putting his arms around her in a firm hug.

"Awww," Lilly cooed.

"I told you it would be fine," Oliver said.

"Yeah, you did," she agreed, sighing wistfully.

"Since everything's good now... that means we can go up there now, right?" he waggled his eyebrows at her, even though he already knew what she was going to say to him.

"Just a few more minutes," she muttered, eyes not leaving Lola and Max.

The older man had pulled his arms from around the small woman, his hands resting on her shoulders while he spoke to her. Lola nodded her head hesitantly, appearing as though she was blinking back tears, the fingers of one hand clutched protectively around the journal. Max gave one of her shoulders a last gentle squeeze, then walked toward his car and driver at an even pace. Before he settled into the car, he held his hand up as a way of saying farewell. Lola blew him a kiss in response, then smiled, moving her hand to her cheek and turning her head away.

Lilly watched as the driver maneuvered the car around the edge of the lot, and then to see the guard at the gate before heading out onto the road. She grinned and sat up straight, bounding out of the car, letter and cupcake in hand, to talk to Lola.

It took a while to steer the conversation around to Max. Lilly didn't want to admit they had been spying, and Oliver wanted to know whether or not Lola liked her cupcake. Lola, of course, wanted to hear all about them actually locating the bakery, and then she wanted to know about Sandy as well, and whether Lilly had been able to get his lucky baseball card back to him. Lilly didn't have the heart to tell her the truth, so she just left it at "yeah, and he was so surprised. He had forgotten all about the card."

It was Oliver who couldn't take it though. After the play by play for the last two items on the list, he finally burst out, "Have you talked to Max lately?" At Lilly's glare, he added, "I mean, cause, you know, we did find him, and I just _know _he was excited to get to talk to you again."

"He was, was he?" Lola asked, the same look of skepticism on her face that Lilly usually aimed at him.

Oliver nodded swiftly, trying not to laugh.

"Well, I suppose since you two have been so helpful, I could tell you about what happened before you got here."

The three of them sat down at one of the picnic tables outside the main building, Lilly with wide and expectant eyes, Oliver tapping his fingers on the surface of the table, and Lola with an expression of joy on her face.

"I do expect you two to tell me exactly how you found him, you know. He wasn't entirely sure about that."

She nodded at the teens and Lilly agreed.

"We'll tell you all about it. But you go first."

So they stayed and listened to Lola until Lilly had no choice but to tell her aunt they had to head home. Lola explained how confused she was when she had a visitor, how nervous Max was to come see her, and how surprising their conversation was. Max had been extremely concerned since Lilly told him about her list and that she was sick. In fact, he had decided to pay for the surgery that Lola had been putting off for her hip. And he wouldn't take no for an answer.

"I though you said your hip was just fine," Lilly teased, a smile on her face.

"Well, it is _fine. _But there's no point in arguing with him now." Lola paused, sharing Lilly's smile. "Besides, once I'm fully recovered, he wants me to go with him."

"With him where?" Oliver asked curiously, leaning forward on his elbows.

One of the women that Lola had identified as one of the biggest gossips in the center hobbled by with her silver cane, her ear cocked none too subtly in their direction, so Lola waited until she was safely out of earshot.

"He just found out from his agent that his books are flying off the shelves in Europe, so he's going to do a promotional tour in a bunch of different countries." She folded her hands over her journal and tried to contain her excitement. "I've never been to Europe. And you know I've always wanted to go to Greece and Ireland and Italy."

"Italy," Oliver mumbled. "I hear they have good pizza there."

Lilly elbowed him in the side. He was still bitter that Miley's Hannah travels had never included Italy. At least, none of her travels that had included her friends.

"I hear that too," Lola responded.

Lilly didn't want to be the one to rain on Lola's love-parade, but she couldn't help but feel worried for her aunt. Lola was sick. And she had been sick for a long time. It was impossible to avoid the upcoming question. "But what about all of your doctors? I mean, they have you on a schedule here. And I think you're Genie's favorite resident."

"In other words, what happens when my brain stops working while I'm looking at the Eiffel tower?" Lola nodded again, but the smile stayed on her lips and she reached over to give Lilly's hand a reassuring pat. "Don't worry. Max said he was going to have a nurse travel with us... Can you imagine? I get to go to Europe with my boyfriend and I have my own personal nurse to come with me!"

"That's awesome," Oliver whispered in awe. Traveling around Europe with his own personal entourage sounded like perfection to him.

"Well..." Lilly finally said, swallowing her protests, after all, Lola was an adult, and she had been waiting her whole life to get Max back, "you better send me postcards... and take lots of pictures!"

* * *

_Nine weeks, Three days later_

Waiting impatiently, Lilly had to practically sit on her hands to prevent herself from opening the box in front of her. It had all kinds of stickers and stamps all over the brown paper wrapping, including the words "Air Mail" stenciled on every side. She pulled her hands from beneath her thighs and tentatively took hold of the edges of the box, tilting it from side to side carefully, listening to the contents shift around. But it told her nothing. Sighing, she allowed the box to settle in her lap, resting above the fabric of her jeans. She squinted at the stickers, hoping they would tell her something. All she got was that it originally came from Italy.

"I thought you called because you were going to wait for me to get here!"

She jumped, almost upending the box as Oliver jogged into the room.

"Ollypop," Lilly said, trying to placate him, "I am waiting. You're taking forever."

"Forever? I ran over here as soon as you called. I had to come from all the way upstairs, to all the way downstairs, and across the backyards, and through your kitchen. You know how I feel about running." He was panting, but only a smidge. And then he winked.

Lilly gave him a wry small and patted the cushion on the couch next to her. She retrieved a pair of scissors from coffee table and set to work slicing open the seams of the box and the string crossing the packaging, pulling apart the paper wrapping, and opening the tabs while Oliver took his offered seat.

"Did she send us any pizza?" He wanted to know, only half joking, leaning his head over her shoulder to see inside the box. All he could see were those little white bits of styrofoam in the shape of peanuts. There were tons of them.

Lilly giggled and sifted through the packing peanuts to find the contents of the box. "Somehow, I don't think she would have sent us pizza."

She almost ate her words though as she found a postcard with the words "For Oliver" written in blue ink on the back. It was a recipe for homemade pizza.

"Huh, this doesn't look that hard. I could do this," Oliver mused, looking over the instructions.

"Sure you can," Lilly shot back, still digging around in the package. She pulled out a thick envelope full of photos, a postcard of the Lover's Wall in Verona with a note for Miley on the back, and another postcard of a small villa with a note to Lilly. At the very bottom of the box was a tiny snowglobe showing Italy from the air, complete with little green fields, yellow coast line, and brown mountains. The boot-shaped country was almost completely surrounded by glittering blue paint, simulating the water. Nestled so within the packing peanuts that Lilly almost didn't see it was a bag of candy as well.

"Awesome," Oliver remarked, plucking the bag from the styrofoam before Lilly could get her hands on it.

"I don't think that's for you," she teased, trying to take it from him.

"What makes you so sure?"

She reached over, ripping a piece of paper that had been taped to the back of it.

_Lilly, don't let Oliver eat all of the candy. Make sure to give some to your brother and tell everyone I say hi. I'll send you sketches next time. We're on our way to Greece!_

"Huh. That Lola, she thinks of everything."

Lilly just snatched the bag back from him and set it next to the snowglobe on the table, admiring them for a minute before pulling the post cards back into her field of vision. Miley's was all about how badly Lola felt for the women who left notes in the wall, but never received an answer to their question. Oliver's, in addition to the pizza recipe, gave him a list of restaurants he just had to try if he ever made it to Italy. Lilly's was about the adventure Lola and Max had while trying to get to an autograph signing in the back of an Italian taxi cab. Lola swore they almost died five or six times. Beside her, Oliver sighed.

"What?"

"Now I really want pizza."

"You're such a doughnut." She shook her head, but then smiled indulgently. "Come on, let's go give Miley her postcard and show her all the pictures. We can get pizza with her."

And like clockwork, every week, a new box arrived from a different delivery service. Sometimes Max wrote up short stories for them about different things that happened. Other times Lola sent sketches. But there were always postcards and at least one tourist-loving souvenir accompanied by a few photographs.

Until one week when there wasn't. Instead, a padded envelope arrived with a new journal. It was a deep purple color with pale green pages. And inside was a new list. But it wasn't full of Lola's regrets. A different note was on the first page.

_Lilly,_

_You know I never had any children, or grandchildren for that matter. And that might have been a regret on my part if I didn't have such a fun life. And I've had so much fun. Which is why I started this journal for you. The first set of pages is full of the things I found most interesting about this book tour with Max. (But I also included all of the things I think a much younger person would enjoy.) I hope you get to come here one day. I hope you get to do all of these things. But I also want you to fill the book up with your own memories, those moments in life you find most enjoyable. I have a feeling your Olly will be included in a lot of those moments :) Write them down. Don't forget them._

_Love,_

_Lola_

Smiling to herself, eyes a bit misty, Lilly ran one finger along the edge of the page, but instead of turning it and starting to read a new list, she thumbed through until she found a blank page, and she started writing.

* * *

**A/N: That's it. It's finally done. I admit, it took me forever to end this chapter. I couldn't find a way to come to a stop that I really liked at first. But I'm happy with this one. I hope you all have enjoyed my first novel-length fanfiction. I never thought I would write one, but there you go. Let me know what you think now that it's all over and done with. Any comments are appreciated. And if I left anything out, let me know. **

**I think I'm going to make a return to one shots. See if I still remember how to write them. Just kidding. I still remember. I already started one. Haha.**


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